Of a Noble Breed
by HariboRain
Summary: (Vampire!France x Hunter!England. Rated M for implied themes). Arthur Kirkland, renowned vampire hunter, had been drawn to London, his home city, where there have been a number of murders. The victims are found in back-alleys, secluded but not exactly hidden, all found with two puncture marks on the side of their neck. Dark haired, young women...he's looking for a Noble Vampire.
1. Dangerous To Walk Alone

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Hey guys, I'm back, but not for definite as I still have a lot going on. But I have wanted to write this story for a long time and I hope that you would like it. I promise to try and be more reliable with the updates but please forgive me if I fail. :(**

**Enjoy~**

**1**

The back-streets of London were quiet as a young woman made her way home. Her heeled shoes clattered on the wet cobblestones obnoxiously, and she pulled her scarlet coat around her self-consciously. She hated to be out at night, and she had only been coaxed out of her home at this hour because of the young man she had met two nights ago outside the theatre. He had seemed so nice and not to mention handsome, that she had agreed to meet him tonight outside the theatre again. Only he didn't show. And now she was cold, wet and her feet ached from her pinching black heels and the amount of times she had twisted her ankle on the damn stones.

The tinny sound of a falling bin made her jump and she snapped her head to the right, where the noise had come from. She had expected to hear a cat's yowl or something to offer an explanation for the disturbance, but eerily, there was nothing. The young woman felt a shiver down her back and quickened her pace, despite the protest from her shoes. She turned a corner, but slipped on the cobblestones and let out a gasp of surprise, holding her hands out in front of her to brace herself for the fall. To her surprise, she felt something quite different from hard, wet pavement on her palms. She opened her eyes again, aware she hadn't even fallen, but stumbled into the arms of a young, handsome male. She blinked in shock, captivated by the bright cerulean orbs that stared back, taking in the man's wavy, blonde hair and defined jaw-line.

"E-Excuse me…" she apologised, righting herself again and somewhat reluctantly removing her hands from the man's chest.

"Don't worry about it~" the man replied, and she noted that he was French from the rich accent that laced his words. He smiled, and the woman's first thought was: _He's so much better than the man I was supposed to meet._

"Are you alright, _mademoiselle_?" he asked, his expression one of neighbourly concern. She nodded, unable to tear her eyes from the man's face. "If I may ask, were are you going in such a hurry?"

"I…I was going home…I just felt a little unsettled walking on my own…" she replied, feeling foolish for being scared of the dark and blushing.

The man let out a low laugh, not mocking, but rather in agreement. "It's not safe for a beautiful woman such as yourself to be walking alone at night, wouldn't you agree?" The woman flushed red from the compliment, and let out a nervous laugh in response.

The man offered his hand out to her. "Allow me to walk you back~"

The young woman was sorely tempted to accept his offer and his hand, and be led home by the most charming man she could ever hope to meet, but her intuition held her back a little. "I don't live far, so you really don't need to. Besides," she added in a more flirtatious tone, "I don't even know your name, sir."

The man smiled again, amused by her reasoning, before giving an elegant bow that was way too dramatic for the occasion and made her laugh. "Forgive my manners. My name is Francis~" he introduced himself with a flourish, and she smiled.

"I'm Emily~" she returned the introduction, and blushed again when Francis gently brushed his lips against her knuckles.

"_Enchanté_, _Mademoiselle _Emily_~" _he purred, and Emily's heart seemed to leap from her chest and into the palm of his hand at his words.

"Y-Yes, nice to meet you too, Francis." She felt heated from the contact he gave her, but when he offered his hand again, she accepted it gracefully. He began to lead her down the alley, where she was sure they would come out onto a busier street. She didn't even notice they had wound their way into narrower, deserted alleys and further away from the main streets.

Emily's exposed ankle brushed something furry that scurried away as it was touched, and she let out a scream, making Francis turn.

"What's wrong, _ma chérie_?" the man asked, a little startled as she suddenly clung to his arm.

"I hate rats…" she mumbled, her grip on Francis loosening again. "Sorry…" she looked up at Francis' face, to find him almost in a trance, staring at her unblinking. It was eerily beautiful, but it still made her uncomfortable. "W-What is it?" she asked uncertainly, pulling back slightly from Francis, but relaxed again when he blinked and smiled.

"_Désolé, ma chérie_, I was just…mesmerised by your beauty~" Emily blushed again, holding her breath a little as he moved closer to her, backing her against a wall. She felt a flutter of excitement in her chest as she stared into his sparkling, blue eyes, making no attempt to move as he slowly leaned in. Francis paused about an inch from her lips, seeming to change his course and left light kisses on her jaw-line, moving down to her neck. Emily closed her eyes, over-the moon that this happened to her, but they snapped open as she felt something sharp pierce her throat. She gasped but moaned as Francis bit deeper, a strange sense of pleasure and pain mixed together overcoming her. Emily was vaguely aware that Francis had snaked one hand around her waist, and another was holding her hair out of the way. She made to lift her hand, but it seemed to require too much energy, and as her vision went hazy, it was like Francis was sucking the life out of her. The last thing she saw as Francis pulled back from her, licking his lips in satisfaction, was the glinting of his fangs in the moonlight and her blood staining his chin.

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**A/N: please let me know if this is worth continuing - I know you can't really judge it from such a small chapter, but please review to tell me what you think~**


	2. His Sister

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Thank you to the people who immediately responded and reviewed the first chapter, so I thought to be nice I'd have the next chapter ready the day after. I can't promise to be this quick with all of them, but who knows? :)**

**Enjoy~**

**2**

"The victim was Emily Wren, the fourth in what is known to be a series of 'vampire attacks'." A large, purposeful sergeant sat back in his chair, folding his hands over his belly as he informed the young man across the room.

"Vampire attacks?" said man repeated, and the sergeant nodded. He didn't particularly like this man; he seemed too confident that he could solve this case when the police had followed every lead they had had on it and come up short each time. The young man was supposed to be a world-renowned expert at solving mysterious cases such as this. The famous Arthur Kirkland, most known for solving the Jack the Ripper copycat case a few years ago. But to the sergeant, he was just a stuck-up twit who watched too much 'Scooby-doo'.

"May I see the pictures?" Arthur asked, and the sergeant handed them over.

"What is it with kids these days, eh? Vampires, zombies, ghosts, anything to give them an excuse to dress like punks." The sergeant was clearly set in his ways, and Arthur ignored him, disapproving of how the sergeant saw all this as a joke. Arthur himself had come across a vampire before, and ever since, he had found out everything he could in order to be ready the next time. He examined the pictures of each of the four bodies, noticing quickly that the signature of this man – he knew it was a man as it was always young women who were victims, and there was a deeper meaning behind the choice of victims – was to leave his victims in a deserted alleyway where someone would only find them if they accidentally went down that route if they got lost or confused in London's maze of alleys.

"Would it be possible to see the crime scene?" Arthur asked professionally, but he preferred the scene rather than pictures, which usually never told the whole story.

"The pictures ain't enough for you?" the sergeant raised an eyebrow, before realising Arthur was serious and sighed. Grumbling, he reached for his phone, calling an officer to take Arthur to the crime scene.

XxX

_"Wait for me! I found a penny!" Arthur yelled down the alley, his five year-old hands reaching down in the crack between two cobblestones where the coin glinted in what was left of the evening light. _

_"Hurry up, Arthur. Or I'll leave you here on your own~" his older sister, Alice, called back, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot impatiently. _

_"No!" Arthur was scared of the dark, Alice knew that, so she used it to her advantage all the time. He jammed his fingers over the penny, finally retrieving it and holding it up triumphantly for her to see. "I got it!" he ran up to her, stumbling a little on a cobblestone that suck up from the rest, and grasped her hand. _

_"Ew," she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You should have left it there, it's all dirty, idiot." Arthur's face fell, and he looked down at the grubby penny in his palm. Alice rolled her eyes, knowing how easily she could upset her younger brother. _

_There was an eight year age-gap between the two of them, as Alice was the oldest sibling and they had lots of brothers. Arthur was the youngest, and therefore entrusted to Alice, partly so he could be looked after, and also so their mother could make sure Alice wasn't up to anything she shouldn't be. _

_"Come on." She sighed, and turned back to the way she had been walking before she heard Arthur asking her to wait. Arthur was tugged along behind her, not paying attention to where they were going, instead, trying to wipe the dirt off the penny with his thumb. He didn't notice his sister stop in her tracks until he bumped into her, and Arthur was about to call her "stupid" for stopping, when he noticed a dark figure in their path. Alice's hand had tightened around Arthur's, and he looked up to see her expression, but it was neutral. _

_"Shouldn't you two be in bed at this hour?" the figure asked, and Arthur peered at him from behind his sister. _

_"We're just going home now…" Alice responded, sounding unsure of the situation. This caught Arthur's attention – Alice always knew what she was doing. She was always right, she declared so herself all the time, so now Arthur wondered what had made her change. Suddenly, he just wanted to go home. He was tired, and he tugged on Alice's hand to get her attention, but she didn't look at him. Her eyes were trained on the figure, fierce and protective. _

_The figure chuckled, a sound that echoed down the alley and made Arthur clutch the fabric of his sister's dress. The strange man was scaring him, and his sister wasn't doing anything!_

_"…I want to go home…" Arthur whispered to his sister, but the figure seemed to hear and stepped to the side. _

_"Please, don't let me stop you~" he dared Alice, who gritted her teeth and squeezed Arthur's hand. Still, she didn't move, and Arthur began to tug at her dress impatiently. _

_"What do you want from us?" She asked instead, and the figure paused. Arthur rubbed his eyes, the penny still clutched in his fist, about to complain that he was tired again. _

_"How about that penny?" the figure asked, his tone mocking and friendly. Too friendly. _

_Arthur looked down at the penny in his hand, and looked up again to see Alice also looking at it. _

_"But…I found it…" Arthur reasoned timidly, before remembering a rhyme his brothers used to taunt him with. "Finders keepers, losers weepers!" he stated defiantly, locking his fingers around the coin protectively. _

_"My, my...what a pesky child." The figure crouched, extending a gloved hand. "Give me the penny, and I'll let you pass, how does that sound?" _

_Alice hesitated, before looking down at Arthur again. "Give it to him, Arthur. I have some pennies at home, you can have one of them."_

_"But – " Arthur pouted. It was his penny, so why should he give it away. "But it's dirty. He won't want it…" he mumbled, but Alice gave him a 'do as I say' look. The figure waited with his hand outstretched, and Arthur approached him slowly, dragging his sister behind him. When the figure did nothing, and Arthur could see the man's friendly face, he gave a smile and let go of Alice's hand. The five year-old placed the coin in the palm of the man's hand, but didn't move away in time. The figure's gloved hand enclosed around Arthur's small one, making him squeak in fear. Alice yelled out, and the stranger pushed Arthur with such force that the young boy tumbled into the hard brick wall. _

_xXx_

_Arthur opened his eyes and all was silent. He started crying as his head hurt, and rubbed his eyes. He felt something in the palm of his hand and opened it, seeing that the penny he had dug out from between the cobblestones was still there. _

But, didn't the man take it_? _

_Arthur sniffed, before remembering his sister. "Alice?" he called, but no one answered. _

_"Alice?" he stood, one hand holding his head to make the pain stop, before he froze. He could see one arm sticking out of the shadows, a delicate, silver bracelet donning it. Alice's bracelet. Arthur forgot his pain, shuffling over to the shadows, and as he got closer he could see the sleeve of her dress, her long blonde hair sprawled on the floor. _

_"Alice?" Arthur squeaked, seeing blood trickling from two small holes on the side of her neck. Her eyes were wide open and terrified. She wasn't blinking. She wasn't breathing._

_Arthur's hand opened involuntarily, and the penny fell with an echoing rattle as it wobbled from one side to the other, before finally coming to rest on the Queen's head._

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**A/N: awww little Arthur~ please review and let me know how you're finding the story~**


	3. Nobles

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**3**

Arthur stared down at the body of Emily Wren, seeing the ghost of Alice Kirkland before him. He clenched his fists, thankful he had kept them in his coat pockets. Ever since the evening when he lost his sister, Arthur had stopped believing in happy endings. After what he witnessed, he didn't need to be told that Father Christmas wasn't real, that his mother was the real Tooth Fairy. He had lost contact with his brothers – he never really got along with them anyway, it was only Alice who he could really class as a sibling – and had moved away from home when he was just sixteen. He had been hunting vampires since he moved out, therefore guaranteeing he had nothing to lose every time he chased one. Arthur had never let himself get close to anyone, and was by now used to people like the sergeant disliking him. He didn't care. He had all he needed: his stakes, holy water, and a gun. The gun would never kill them, but if he shot their leg or shoulder, it would slow them down a little and allow him to get close enough before they healed. By now, he had perfected his hunting technique, and had earned himself quite a reputation in doing so.

_So much for a low profile. _

Arthur noted that this vampire most certainly had a preference. Miss Wren, like the other three, was female, around 20 years old, and had dark hair like the rest of them. After a few years of hunting vampires, he had been able to classify there were two types. Type 1 was a Common Vampire, one who didn't care what it bit as long as it was an easy target. They would often leave a lot of blood behind, and wouldn't give two hoots about running out on the street with blood all over them and grabbing someone to bite in front of everyone. They were the easiest to hunt, but there were also a lot more of them to deal with. However, in the case of Emily Wren, under other circumstances, she should've felt honoured. Her life had been claimed by a Noble Vampire, one who would choose their victims carefully and possibly stalk them for a while in order to find the most effective and easy way to kill them, limiting the chances of being caught. These vampires were predominantly male, but there was a case of a female Noble who had managed to kill sixty-seven young men before Arthur caught her. The Noble Vampires were also older than the Common Vampires, some living for centuries and therefore being the most difficult to find and kill. Arthur recalled that Alice had also been killed by a Noble Vampire. You could tell by how clean the death is. Noble Vampires would only ever leave one set of fang marks, and it was rare to find much blood left, let alone a pool of it or blood spattered against the wall behind the body. These vampires Arthur considered to also have an intimate moment or relationship with their victims, from either asking their name to in some cases making love to them before they would feed.

This was certainly the work of a Noble – there was no blood left over and there were two defined piercings in Emily's neck. Arthur saw that the victim was also dressed as if to impress someone – male company, perhaps. It was possible the Noble himself had arranged to meet her, that or he knew she would be meeting someone and waited until she was walking home again. The heels of her shoes were considerably scuffed, and there was stains of where she had stepped in puddles. She had certainly been rushing to get home. There were no signs of a struggle, as corresponded with the other victims, and Arthur could not infer any more from the appearance.

However, Emily's body was positioned – it wouldn't have slumped and been discarded in that way – with her right arm bent and her palm facing upwards, her right arm across her chest. Her legs had been tilted slightly, and her eyes had been closed. It made her look innocent, undeserving of the fate that met her. The other three victims had also been found this way, the pictures showed. Arthur supposed it was either a sign of remorse, or this Noble held his victims with such a high value that he made sure they looked beautiful even after death, and these women, all four of them, were very pretty. Arthur suspected it was the latter; he had never encountered a remorseful vampire and he didn't think he ever would. It wasn't one of the typical traits of a blood-sucking monster. A bizarre but likely thought flew into his mind as he contemplated the position of the body: the Noble had seen someone close to him die in that specific position, so it was like each victim was representing that person. Then again, it could just be that the Noble wanted to create a signature for himself, so the ones who discovered the bodies knew they were linked. That was the problem with Noble Vampires, they were too vain and proud to let their victims be found without something to link it back to them. They liked to boast about such things as a teenage girl may boast about a new outfit.

Arthur stepped away from Emily's body, retracing the route he assumed she had taken – or _they_ had taken, if Emily had encountered the Noble at this point – looking for anything to give a hint to the identity of the Noble. DNA was not an option with vampires, as either they were too old to have any details recorded, or they were recorded as dead anyway so the chances of Arthur getting someone to look up a wanted dead person without them asking questions was very slim. So it was down to good old-fashioned detective work, something that Arthur had been improving with on every case he had. Unfortunately, Nobles rarely left any evidence behind unless they wanted it to be found, and this one, apart from the positioning of the body, had nothing he wanted to share.

Looking to the shadows, he was painfully reminded of the arm sticking out, the bracelet belonging to his sister and eventually Alice herself. Drawing a sharp breath, Arthur turned and went back to the officer to escort him back.

* * *

**A/N: categorising vampires 'cause I can~ :P please review and tell me what you think of the story~**


	4. Desires

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**4**

Francis sat back against the plush, velvet sofa with a contented smirk on his face. That last girl, Emily, had satisfied him more than the others. Perhaps it was because she didn't scream or cry for help, or maybe it was because he could feel her enjoying it as he drank. Whatever it was, she had made Francis feel almost delirious with the new surge of blood running through him.

"Someone looks happy~" a loud, East-German accented voice spoke from across the room, and an albino man, Francis' friend for many centuries, offered him a glass of what at first glance was wine, but it was too deep a red for such a liquid. "Good night?" he asked, and Francis nodded as he accepted a glass.

"_Oui,_ I paid a visit to the one I'd been watching since last week." The French vampire swirled his glass gently, watching the blood elegantly coat the sides of the glass as it swirled in the motion.

"The hot chick? Awesome! I mean, if you were going to take any longer with her, I could've nabbed her myself~" the albino joked, sitting down opposite Francis.

"You know, Gil, I may just bite you if you did that~" Francis threatened, baring his teeth at the other vampire. It was an empty threat of course, one Noble could not bite another without both of them dying, and since both Gilbert and Francis were Noble vampires, the action would not be wise.

The Prussian vampire bared his fangs back, then laughed as Francis grinned.

"I was going to go out tonight, see if there's any cute blondes willing to offer me a bite to eat~" Gilbert grinned at the pun he had used so many times and was no longer amusing to the Frenchman. "Want to come with me?"

"You know I dislike your taste in girls, _mon ami_. I'd rather not~" Francis waved his free hand in dismissal, sipping from his glass and grimacing a little at the taste. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, gesturing to the blood.

"Oh, it's from the lady who used to clean the house~" Gil said chirpily, sipping his own drink. "You don't like it?"

"It's foul." Francis stated bluntly. He had always been far more selective than Gilbert, leading him to build up a reputation of disliking any blood he didn't lure himself.

Gilbert shrugged. "Suit yourself." He took Francis' glass from him and set it on the ornately decorated crimson table next to him. "I'll have it later~"

Francis rolled his eyes. "Now I need to get that awful taste out of my mouth. It seems one of my dear 'desires' will be meeting me sooner than I had planned." He looked less than pleased, but Gilbert snorted, partially at the French vampire's insistent reference to calling his victims 'desires'.

"Serves you right for being a fussy son of a bitch, frog-face!" the albino laughed, and Francis swatted him over the back of the head, before bidding him goodbye and retreating to the place he knew his next victim would be.

XxX

Francis hummed against the girl's throat – Rose, he had been told – as he drank her blood, tasting the fear and exhilaration running through her veins. He held her dark hair back, caressing her waist lovingly as she began to slump against him. The vampire could hear the blood draining from her, feel it rushing through him like a dam that had burst and been destroyed by the force of water behind it. Rose's head lolled back and her legs buckled, one arm that she had draped over Francis' shoulders falling back down to her side as she lost consciousness.

The vampire withdrew his fangs, before running his tongue over the two fresh puncture marks affectionately, like smoothing over the single crease in a pretty dress. Francis drew back from his victim, admiring her appearance now that he had finished with her. Deadly pale, the life drained out of her skin and eyes, leaving a glazed, limp doll in its place. Her head was still hanging back, like a puppet with a broken string which used to support the head.

_They were always prettiest like this_.

With care, Francis tucked a strand of the girl's dark hair behind her ear, allowing him to see her pale, lifeless face with less obstruction. He stared at her a long moment, as he did with each of his 'desires', before laying her on the cold, dark cobblestones, her skin now a harsh contrast in the moonlight that glinted on the silver necklace she still wore. Francis crouched beside her, lifting her head gently with one hand and undoing the clasp of the necklace with the other. He liked to take a keepsake with him, and it was usually jewellery. From necklaces to rings, he was indifferent to the design or the quality, he would put them in a little wooden box with a dark, elegant swirling pattern carved on the face of it, treating each trinket with as much care as he had the victim.

He took care to lay one hand over the girl's chest and the other arm laying dramatically away from her torso, the palm facing upwards. Francis had begun to put his victims in this position a few years ago, ghosting the pose of a certain young woman who had been drained of her blood. The vampire who killed her had not been Francis, but the woman herself had managed to steal Francis' no longer beating heart, and the one who killed her had thought he was doing Francis a favour. Nobles could not fall for human beings; they could certainly do better than that, and they would only grow to outlive or tire of them anyway. Francis had killed the woman's killer, however, too caught in his own rage and grief at what the vampire – his own friend for many centuries – had done, but the image of the woman's body lying with one arm across her chest and the other thrown out with the palm towards the sky had been burnt into his mind ever since.

"_Bonne nuit, ma chérie~_" Francis purred, leaning in close to place a gentle kiss upon the girl's forehead, before standing and stepping into the menacing shadows of the night.

* * *

**A/N: anyone getting any small hints of how this is going to link up yet? I will do a chapter on how Nobles become what they are from Common vampires at some point, but I cant promise when~**

**In the meantime though, please review~**


	5. A Little Game

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**5**

Arthur sat down heavily in the old armchair he had moved by the fireplace for winter. The house was quiet, but then again he would expect nothing less as he lived alone. The Englishman leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his lap and resting his head in his hands. He had just about had enough of that sergeant, and was wondering how he could get rid of him so he could really investigate this case. Only the enticing crackle of the flames in the old, dark fireplace served as an answer, and Arthur raised his head a moment to stare at them in thought.

A harsh ring suddenly sounded through the room, bringing Arthur out of his thoughts quickly. He glared at the telephone he had had moved to this room a year ago, regretting the decision for the thousandth time. Sighing, Arthur stood up and trudged over to the phone to answer.

"Yes?" he asked, picking up the phone and speaking into the receiver.

_"Kirkland? Ah, good. It's – "_

"I know who it is." Arthur interrupted bluntly, recognising the agonising voice of the sergeant from before. There was pause on the other end, and Arthur remembered the sergeant didn't lie to be cut off like that, smirking and waiting for a response.

_"There's been another murder." _The sergeant stated, and Arthur frowned. He had only just arrived home after examining the last scene. Whoever this vampire was, he was moving quickly.

"Are the signs the same?" his tone was formal and demanding, needing to know the information as he was already pulling his coat on.

_"We believe so. Are you going to take a l – "_

Arthur slammed the phone down and grabbed everything he needed: a notebook and pen; a small bottle of Holy Water he always carried on him, just in case; a freshly carved stake and a silver cross; and of course, his hat. A gentleman should never leave the house without it.

XxX

'_Rose Holly'_, the report said, and there was a picture of an 18 year old girl, beaming at the camera. She was pretty, like the others, Arthur noted to himself. She even looked pretty now, if you could call a corpse lying in an alley 'pretty'. It was now dark, as Arthur had received the phone call notification quite late in the evening, but he had rushed over to the scene regardless. There were no police officers now, although there were several 'we were here' signs by the ghastly yellow tape that sanctioned off the alleyway.

Crouching over the body of the girl, Arthur shone his small torch, no longer fazed by how horrific it seemed to shine a torch on a corpse. He could almost immediately see the two puncture marks, and like before, not a drop of blood was to be seen. Not only was this a Noble, but this was a Noble who knew exactly what he was doing. Every step the vampire made was purposeful, and he had probably planned this victim a few weeks in advance at least. The thought enraged Arthur, and he silently clenched a fist. This vampire was taunting him, a big 'catch-me-if-you-can' tease. The Noble was confident, and would probably continue this until he was caught, not before.

Nobles weren't the type to be cowardly.

An almost mute splash sounded behind him and Arthur whipped round, his senses alert instantly. His eyes scanned the empty alley before him, the only sign of disturbance was the now calmly rippling puddle a few feet away. It could have been something that dropped from one of the rooftops that protruded into the alleyway, but Arthur knew better. There was a slight hint of the aroma of roses, which seemed quite a random scent in the grimy, dark alley, so someone had been there. Someone had been standing behind him. Or something. It had been close enough to attack Arthur with the element of surprise, but it had merely watched. Arthur frowned; _why would it only watch? _He knew for a fact that Noble vampires didn't kill outside of their preference unless they had to, and Arthur was blonde-haired, young but male, so he wasn't exactly this Noble's type. But still, if the Noble knew how much of a risk Arthur posed him, surely he would've simply killed him off?

Unless, the Noble really didn't see Arthur as a threat yet, and this was only to mock him. Arthur frowned in annoyance, stepping away from the body and investigating the nearby alleys, but he found nothing.

_So much for Nobles not being the type to be cowardly._

XxX

_My, my…_Francis thought to himself as he observed the vampire hunter from the shadows. _What a curious one. _He smirked, knowing he could just kill this man as quickly as snapping his fingers, but at the same time, the hunter intrigued him.

_I think I'll play a little game with you, Hunter. You try and catch me, before I catch you._

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**A/N: In advance the French won't be grammatically correct and I do apologise. Please review - I always value my reader's opinions of my work~**


	6. From Behind

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**6**

Arthur stepped quickly through the back alleys, certain he would either find or prevent something just by his presence. He clutched his dark coat around him tightly, blocking out the icy wind that had seemed enhanced by the narrow alleys, and adjusted his hat again. The two latest victims, Rose Holly and Emily Wren, had been found in alleys only a few turns from each other, and now Arthur was making his way to them quickly and quietly, making his footfalls light. Nobles vampires had enhanced senses and were able to detect the smell of blood from a certain distance, depending on how trained the Noble had become. It meant that they rarely ever walked past humans on the street: the smell of the blood pumping through the bodies would drive them to insanity.

He turned a corner and ran into someone else, both jumping in surprise and reeling back.

"Please excuse me, I'm terribly sorry…miss?" Arthur saw the person he had bumped into was a young woman with dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and she was very attractive.

_Just the Noble's type. _

"Oh, no I'm sorry…" she gave a small smile. "Clumsy me~" The young woman was clearly one who was afraid to be here alone, and she brushed a few strands of hair behind her pierced ear, revealing a small red earring to match her dark red dress. She began to walk past Arthur, and his instincts screamed at him to stay with her as long as he could; she was the next victim. He cleared his throat in a gentlemanly manner, trying to look as harmless as anything.

"Actually, I appear to have lost myself, and I was wondering if you could help me?" he offered a small smile, which he knew happened to be one of the only things that could make him seem worth helping.

The woman paused, and it was blatant that she didn't want to be alone either. But before she could answer, a growling could be heard quite close to them. The woman jumped again, before being about to laugh that there was just a hungry dog nearby, but Arthur knew better.

"Get behind me." He directed in a low voice, his hand reaching for the stake in his back pocket.

"W-What?" she asked, obviously thinking he had something else in mind.

"Just do it!" he hissed, drawing his stake quickly. This time she didn't hesitate, moving behind them until she was protected, standing behind Arthur in a corner where two alleys met. That was the trouble with these alleyways, they were all so close together, and you couldn't tell exactly where something was.

Eerie, irregular footsteps could be heard as unpredictable thumps on the cobblestones, before the thing which had earlier made the noise was in sight. A common vampire, his chin caked in blood and his eyes darting about hungrily.

Arthur had seen one like this before: this was a vampire who had drunken too much blood from different people, as usually common ones will not drain their victims of blood, only really taking a few greedy gulps before throwing them aside and moving on to the next one. If a vampire becomes as deranged and detached as this, he could come at Arthur in a frenzy, giving no signal of when he would attack. Now, the vampire stood slightly hunched over, watching Arthur with an animalistic expression.

The woman gave a small shriek, and Arthur immediately told her to be quiet. "They get stirred by any sudden sounds or movements…" he warned in a whisper, and the woman put a hand over her mouth to stop herself.

Although the common vampires were sloppy and not strategic in their attacks, they were strong, and this one could lift Arthur a few feet off the ground if the hunter would let him. Arthur would have to stake it quickly, as soon as the opportunity arose.

The woman kept staring at the common vampire, silent tears running down her cheeks. She was terrified, and had every right to be, but she let out a harsh, only half stifled sob, which spurred the vampire into action.

He lumbered towards Arthur, his body lurching inhumanly as the result of one foot that seemed to be completely twisted at the ankle and could not now support its weight. However, it didn't seem to deter the vampire as common ones could not feel pain like humans could, only able to be hurt by stakes, Holy Water and as a last resort, specialised bullets. Arthur braced himself, watching the vampire's every movement, but waiting for it to come to him.

The vampire bared his already bloody fangs, which had grown to almost half the length of his chin, and made a grab at Arthur with a hand that was used more like claws. Arthur ducked and kicked the vampire in the chest, sending it sprawling into the wall. After years of hunting vampires and training every day, Arthur had acquired his own strength, which could knock a common vampire off its feet if applied correctly. The vampire gave a snarl of fury and staggered to get up, but by that time Arthur was already standing over him. With a final movement, Arthur embedded the wooden stake in the vampire's chest, and it gave a howl of pain, before it turned to dust and blew away with a sudden wind that swooped through the alleys. After the wind had passed, Arthur realised how silent the alley now was, and turned around to comfort the young woman.

But she had gone. Arthur saw something glinting where she had been standing surely moments before; a small, red earring. Arthur was overcome with anger.

_The damned Noble snatched her from right behind me. _As if in response, a low, accented and mocking laugh echoed down the alleyway, taunting Arthur.

Now he understood. The Noble had probably lured the common vampire here, using his own soon-to-be-victim as bait, so Arthur would have something to be distracted from the woman.

_Clever, wasn't it? _

A voice whispered down the alley, the mocking voice from before, but he had to listen carefully to make sure it wasn't just the wind.

_Aw, don't worry, mon cher…She was awfully tasty~ _

When Arthur clenched his fists in rage at the Noble's words, another chuckle followed.

"Show yourself, you bloody demon!" Arthur demanded, his stake raised again threateningly.

_But it's much more fun to see you getting so worked up, Hunter~_

"You coward!" Arthur dared, his eyes scanning the alley in front of him.

_Am I? _

The voice had suddenly concentrated right behind him, and Arthur was about to spin around, when he found he as rooted to the spot. He felt a cold, deathly hand trace up his back and squeezed his eyes shut, hating the sensation. Arthur was pretty sure that the Noble was so close he could've felt the breath on his neck, if only the vampire had been breathing.

He froze as he felt what he thought was the Noble's tongue giving a small lick to his earlobe, and Arthur tried as best he could to escape. But his limbs wouldn't move.

A small groan escaped from him as he felt the Noble's fangs pierce his skin, and he felt the vampire's hum of amusement at this. However, Arthur couldn't feel the blood being drained from him as he had expected, but rather, the vampire retracted his fangs again, pressing his tongue against the puncture marks affectionately.

_Luckily for you, I've already eaten today. Besides, you're not my type, mon cher~_

Arthur could feel the grin the vampire gave, before his limbs seemed released and he collapsed to the floor, his hand immediately reaching for his neck. The Noble hadn't fed from him, but he had marked him for the rest of his life.

Arthur stood shakily, vowing he would not rest until he had firmly embedded a stake into the Noble's cold, dead heart.

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**A/N: A slightly longer chapter to make up for the shorter one previously. Please review because I really value your input~**

**Thanks~ **


	7. I'm Ready

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**((Timeskip: 3 years later~))**

**7**

Arthur woke in a cold sweat, his heart racing from the same old nightmare. It had been 3 years since his encounter with the Noble vampire, but every night he relived the deathly shiver up his spine and the strangely satisfying feeling of the fangs puncturing his skin. Arthur brushed his now too long hair out of his dulled green eyes, unable to get the taunting, accented voice out of his head. He had moved away from London after the Noble had bitten him, committing himself to expanding his own knowledge of vampires and the most effective methods to go about killing them.

He had been worried that he would be consumed by the incurable fever that plagued the bodies of those who had been bitten, eventually driving them to a mental state where they craved the blood of humans. The fever would undoubtedly turn a person into a common vampire, which was why there were more of them and no matter how many were killed, the population could easily boom again. But to become a Noble vampire was a much more sophisticated process. The first condition is that the person being bitten has to be willing, fully aware of what would happen to them. Arthur would never be able to understand why anyone would want to become a blood-sucking creature of the night, viewing the whole concept as insane. The person would also have to be strong, or they may have suffered a tragic experience recently which filled them with hatred, rage or sorrow. The most common cause was the death of a loved one, or the person had found out they had some life-threatening illness and only had a short time to live.

It was then down to the Noble to decide whether or not to convert them, and if they chose to, the Noble would drink only some of the person's blood, before offering them their own blood. However, the blood of a Noble was a dangerous thing, not only to common vampires, but other Nobles as well. If a Noble drank the blood of another Noble, both of them would perish. This is because all Nobles need at least a certain amount of blood in their own bodies, and cannot afford to waste any, which is why they drink every last drop of each victim's blood. But if they lose a considerable amount of their own blood, they lose their vampirical strength and become a lesser being than even a common vampire. They would lose their taste for blood, and human food would not appeal to them either. Eventually, they would turn to dust from starvation and blood loss.

But how long the Noble lived afterwards would depend on how much of their blood had been drained. If one Noble managed to drain the other of blood almost completely, the Noble would crumble and turn to dust instantly. However, Noble blood is also poisonous to other vampires, regardless of their rank, and if one bit another, both would eventually turn to dust.

Arthur looked in the mirror, tilting his head up slightly to expose the pale scars of the bite marks on his neck. He was still conscious of the marks day and night, and now wore scarves or high-collared garments to conceal them, but the fangs that not only punctured his skin. They had sunk into his mind, infecting his thoughts and plaguing his brain with the memory of the vampire constantly.

The process of turning someone into a Noble vampire was indeed strenuous, and nine times out of ten, it would be an unsuccessful conversion and the human would die before they turned. However, on the occasion that the human did become a Noble vampire, it was then up to the vampire who sired them to make sure they kept to the shadows and learnt what it means to be a Noble vampire.  
Arthur gritted his teeth, hating how it had turned into a game for the Nobles: who sires the most is the best Noble. The prize? Respect from other vampires and possibly protection from the likes of Arthur.

A thought suddenly occurred to Arthur, something he had not so much as blinked at before. He never once saw the vampire who had bitten him. He could pass the bloody creature on the street and wouldn't know it was him. The very idea infuriated Arthur to the point that he clenched the freshly sharpened stake he kept on his bedside table and threw it across the room. He had not meant to achieve anything by it, but had automatically flicked his wrist as he did so, sending the stake whistling through the air with blade-like speed and precision, before it embedded itself into the wall, puncturing the stained wallpaper and forcing a hole in the shabbily-constructed wall.  
Arthur stared at it a moment, secretly impressed that he did that, before getting to his feet and retrieving the stake, pulling it out of the wall with ease.

Looking to the window with the stake clenched firmly again in his strong fist, Arthur gave a smirk to the now full moon, unable to hide behind smoky clouds anymore as Arthur challenged it.

_I'm ready._ Arthur declared to the moon, to the Noble who had dared have the audacity to come near him. To the coward who had attacked him from behind. To the fool who wouldn't show Arthur his face.

_I'm ready. And I'll start with you._

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**A/N: I'm so sorry for not updating in so long, but lately everything has just been feeling really down for me, and I didn't want to write something crappy and upload it quickly, and thought it was better to wait until I had some level of inspiration first. But thanks to everyone who has been reading this and telling me to continue, it really does mean a lot to me and I do try my best to make the story as enjoyable as possible for you! Again, thanks for putting up with my random updating and such! ~**


	8. Blame

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

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**REVIEW RESPONSES:**

**Roseyposey=**** Thank you so much and I'm glad I have "made your day"~ :D I will try to update more but unfortunately I can't promise anything ((sorry~)) but thanks again~ XD**

**Barbra=**** Thanks so much for your review, an in answer to your question I haven't written a lemon before so I'm not sure…but I can promise heavy implications or flirtatious behaviour from Francis in later chapters ;) we'll see how it goes~**

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**8**

A man lay in his makeshift bed, the thin sheets covering him heaving up and down in time with the violent coughs that wracked the man's body. He squeezed his red eyes shut as another spasm of pain electrocuted through his body, but he refused to cry out. He knew it wouldn't do any good. His family didn't care what happened to him - they wouldn't even get a doctor for him. If he was able, he would go to a doctor by himself, but he hadn't eaten properly in days which made him weak. Besides, if he did get cured, it would mean living with a family who hated him for even longer. Gilbert never thought he had been treated fairly, but learnt the hard way that albino people were considered to be possessed by the Devil. If he could wish away his white hair and red eyes, he would, but it wouldn't change the look of utter disgust he saw in his parents' eyes. They still blamed him for his little brother's death four years ago.

* * *

_Little Ludwig had been spending the day with Gilbert, and they had been playing hide and seek in the woods. It had been a quiet day, Gilbert and Ludwig had been the only ones there. _

_"It's your turn to count, Bruder!" Ludwig declared, his five-year-old self beaming at the teenage Gilbert._

_"Ja, okay then." Gilbert grinned back, before closing his eyes and facing a tree to ensure Ludwig would not accuse him of cheating._

_"Ein...Zwei...Drei..." he heard delighted giggles as Ludwig scrambled up a small slope, unaware that Gilbert had already sussed out Ludwig's location. _

_"Vier..._ _Fünf...Sechs..." Gilbert smiled a little as he heard Ludwig give a small humph of victory, gathering he had made it up the slope successfully. The sound of footsteps muffled by the carpet of dead leaves and twigs began to fade as Ludwig ran to find a hiding place._

_"Seiben...Acht...Neun - " a short, piercing scream made Gilbert's eyes snap open and he jerked his head up, trying to see his brother._

_"Ludwig?!" _

_The albino clambered up the small slope, his feet slipping on the damp, dead leaves as Ludwig had not moments ago. He reached the top and his crimson eyes darted, trying to spot Ludwig through the trees, but he couldn't see him. Panic coursed through him as he raced through the trees, stumbling twice as hidden roots tangled around his feet and brambles cut his calves sharply. One step sent shoots of pain up his leg, and he briefly registered that he had twisted or perhaps sprained his ankle. But he didn't care. All he wanted to do was find Ludwig and make sure he was alright._

_"Ludwig!" Gilbert yelled, hoping for an answer as he hurtled through the woods, feeling numb, his thoughts only of Ludwig. He received no reply save for the snapping of twigs and the rustling of disturbed leaves as he crashed through the trees, before he was forced to halt. The ground fell away beneath him, forming a large, leafy crater. The sides were steep, and if Gilbert had been any more careless, he could've broken his neck stumbling into the bowl._

_His eyes widened in realisation as he saw a path of disturbed woodland floor leading down into the centre of the leafy bowl. There, a crumpled body of a child lay, silent and unmoving. _

_"Ludwig..." Gilbert felt a weird, dazed sensation come over him, and for a moment he thought he was going to faint. But on coming to his senses and realising Ludwig needed him, Gilbert shook his head a little, before starting down the slope. _

_"Ludwig!" he yelled at the still figure as he stumbled down the steep side. "Ludwig!" _

_Gilbert felt his legs buckle under him just as he reached the bottom of the slope, and he fell to his knees next to the child. Gilbert could now see that one side of Ludwig's head was stained a dark red, and a sharp rock that had been concealed until Ludwig fell and unearthed it, now lay bloody and close to the boy's head. Gilbert shook his brother gently, willing him to open his eyes or at least respond in some way. But Ludwig's eyes stayed partially closed, as if he were dreaming. Tears escaped and slipped down Gilbert's cheeks as he shook Ludwig with a little more force, refusing to believe the worst had happened. Again, Ludwig didn't respond. _

_Gilbert's lower lip trembled a moment, as it finally sank in, and then let out a cry of despair, clutching his little brother to his chest, holding him in his arms to protect him from Gilbert's own mistakes. But it was too late for that. Gilbert didn't have to check whether Ludwig was breathing: his body was already growing cold. _

_"__Ludwig…" Gilbert whispered, repeating his brother's name over and over again as he rocked the still body back and forth. Ludwig was the one person who saw past Gilbert's appearance and loved him as a brother should. He adored Gilbert and trusted him entirely. Maybe if he had not have trusted Gilbert, he wouldn't have gone running off and this wouldn't have happened. _

_It's all my fault…_

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Gilbert's body shuddered as he coughed again, his frail bones almost rattling with the strain. He had brought Ludwig back home to his parents that day, cradling his brother against his chest, the pain in his ankle forgotten. He still remembered their expressions. His father was shocked and disbelieving. His mother's eyes held pure rage, and she had slapped him across the cheek hard enough to bruise him for the next few days. Ludwig had always been the favourite child, but Gilbert had never despised him for that. It wasn't Ludwig's fault. But after his mother had struck him, he understood just how much his parents had loathed having a 'demon child' in their family, and now that Ludwig was gone, there was nothing to stop them showing it.

After Ludwig's death, his father buried himself in work, and often came back home late at night, drunk out of his mind. It was then that Gilbert stayed in his room, knowing that if he ventured outside, all he would achieve would be a black eye from his father's flailing fist. His mother couldn't even look at Gilbert anymore, and sat in her rocking chair by the window, staring at nothing for the entire day. She had abandoned the housework and cooking, leaving Gilbert to learn quickly how to take care of himself. His father had passed away not long after his nightly hobby, and neither Gilbert nor his mother shed a tear. A while after that, Gilbert himself had fallen ill, but no matter how much blood he coughed up, or how harsh his sobs were, his mother never came near him, not even with a glass of water. It was hard to believe they even lived in the same house, as Gilbert had been confined to his bed and never saw his mother, or even heard her make a sound.

But he knew it wouldn't be long now.

The illness would soon take him, and he would not burden his mother any longer.

He wouldn't have to think of Ludwig or his family ever again.

He wouldn't have to blame himself anymore.

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**A/N: oops I killed Germany…I always seem to kill the characters I like…****L****but there you go, another chapter under my belt! Haha please review as you know how much I value your opinions~**


	9. Claudia

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia~**

**Yes, it's another Gilbert chapter, BUT he's important so I hope you like it~**

**9**

_I can feel it. _

_It won't be long now._

_Still, I don't want to die here, in a house where I am not loved or wanted. _

Gilbert hauled himself out of the bed he had not left for some weeks now, a shaking hand grasping the bedpost for support. He was as frail as an elderly man now, and hearing his bones practically creaking at the joints was something he didn't want to experience again. He managed to get to his feet, slipping on a pair of worn slippers that used to be his father's, and slipping into a now oversized dressing gown. It wasn't much, but it would do. With all the strength he could muster, he pushed the old, peeling window upwards, instantly met by the bitter, cold night air. An unpleasant shiver coursed through him, making him feel as fragile as a feather, but he wasn't deterred. He hauled himself up to the windowsill and with great difficulty, managed to drag himself through the window, landing on the damp cobblestones below softly. Their family had never been rich enough to afford more than one level to their house, and now it was something Gilbert was thankful for. Shivering, he struggled to his feet, not prepared to let anything stop him from getting away from such a hell-hole he had had to suffer in for the majority of his life. He made his way down the narrow alley that was pretty much the only thing remotely resembling a garden, and at least seven of the closely-packed houses shared it. Leaning against the cold, dirty walls for support, Gilbert stumbled down the alley, each step one further from that dreaded house.

But it was a maze of alleyways from here onwards, and Gilbert quickly found himself wandering aimlessly. Their mother had never let either Gilbert or Ludwig explore down here, claiming it was not safe. But Gilbert had nothing to lose now, and continued to turn corners blindly.  
A stronger, frostier wind had begun to pick up, channelling through the alleys and making Gilbert feel the icy grip of it surrounding him. Still, he pressed forward, not caring where he ended up anymore.

Only an echoing, innocent laugh of a young woman stopped him, and he turned to locate the source of the sound. Sure enough, a young woman - the likes of which he had never seen before - was standing a few steps behind him, leaning gracefully against the wall. Gilbert was stunned: she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen! Her dark as black hair tumbled past the shoulders of her elegant, red dress that hugged her figure in the most attractive way. Gilbert could feel himself blush faintly merely at the sight of her, and failed to notice that the woman's hair was not disturbed by the wind, and that she cast no shadow. Frankly, all he was aware of was how the dress revealed so much cleavage that he wondered how the dress was even containing it all. He had never seen a female wear such clothing, and couldn't stop staring at her chest.

The woman smiled, pretending not to notice as she took a step towards him. "Finally, someone else in these God-forsaken alleys~" her voice was pretty, and Gilbert found himself captivated by her.

The agony of his illness was completely forgotten as he stared at her, not realising she had expected some sort of response. The woman arched one eyebrow, clearly amused at his stunned display.

"I wonder...could you help me? I am insufferably lost, you see~" her voice was a purr that hummed in Gilbert's ears, and he grinned, something he hadn't done for years.

"Well, sure. It'd be my pleasure to assist such a beautiful lady as yourself~" it was as if the woman's presence had cured him completely, and she smiled, her dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

She took another step towards him, and a feeling of excitement fluttered through Gilbert. His mother had sheltered him from the outside world, or rather, confined him to his room, and so although he was an adult, Gilbert had not so much as kissed a girl before. And now there was this beautiful woman before him, and Gilbert found himself staring again.

But before she could take another step towards him, a searing pain shot through Gilbert and he fell to his knees, trembling and uttering a small cry. It was getting worse, and Gilbert barely registered the woman's arms around him, about to ask if he was alright. But as she touched him, she was able to sense his illness, and knew his time was up. Her plan had been to drain him of blood after playing with him a little, but this new knowledge struck the woman with a sense of pity she had not experienced for years.

Gilbert's body shuddered with the agony he was in, and he unintentionally gripped the woman's shoulder for support. He could hear her whispering something to him, but all he caught was "I can save you". At this, he nodded. The pain was unbearable, and he threw his head back, giving another cry, before a strange, draining sensation came over him as he felt something bite his neck. He closed his eyes, feeling fatigue wash over him. He felt calm now, no longer scared of death or when the illness may take him. He lost consciousness just as the woman retracted her fangs.

XxX

Gilbert awoke feeling hungry, but any trace of the illness seemed to have left him. He dragged his eyes open to see a dark room, unfamiliar to him. He was in a large, luxurious looking bed, and for a moment he thought; _this must be heaven_.

"You're awake."

Gilbert glanced in the direction of the voice, feeling dazed and weak still, but he could make out the figure of the woman he remembered from somewhere. _The one with dark hair and glinting dark eyes…and the…the dress… _He still felt disoriented, but the woman smiled.

"You made it. Well done~" her tone was kind now, not flirtatious as it had been before, but Gilbert frowned in confusion.

"W-What are you…talking about?" he half-demanded once he had found his voice.

The woman still seemed amused by him, even intrigued. "You're a strong one, that's for sure. But you won't be able to move for a while yet. Such a conversion takes time~"

"Conversion?" Gilbert asked, his head swimming with her words. _What the hell is she talking about? _

The woman stood, walking over to the bed and leaning in, her face now inches from his. Gilbert couldn't move away, he felt somewhat paralysed, but he felt unease all the same. For a fleeting moment, he thought she was going to kiss him, but then she stopped lower, now whispering in his ear.

Gilbert's eyes widened at what she was telling him, before attempting to jerk away, which only resulted in him feeling dizzy.

"That's…how stupid do you think I am?" he found his voice again, not liking it that the woman was mocking him. "Everyone knows they don't exist!"

"Don't they?" the woman's tone had changed to a more accusing, demanding tone. "Well then, explain this!" And she bared her teeth at him, displaying two fangs that Gilbert could not think of a rational explanation for. When the woman spoke again, her voice had taken on a slightly muffled sound, as if her fangs were making it more difficult for her to speak.

"Come on then, genius. If you think you know we don't exist, then what's this?" she gestured to herself, her demeanour becoming more fiery and angry.

"I…I…" Gilbert couldn't say anything, unable to conceal his expression of horror. At seeing this, the woman paused, before closing her mouth again.

"Go ahead…" the woman now sounded calm again, producing a mirror from his bedside table. "See for yourself." She held it up to him, but Gilbert could only see the pillows behind him, as if he wasn't lying there at all. He let out a shriek, knowing that vampires were rumoured to cast no reflection or shadow.

"_Nein…_" he shook his head, as if trying to convince himself, and the woman put the mirror down again. She looked at him with the expression of pity she had earlier felt when she sired him.

"You should be grateful…not many people get to be a Noble vampire, you know…" she muttered, but she wasn't demanding any gratitude. Instead, she looked away from him, retreating to the only door the room had. She paused, her back still to Gilbert when she spoke again.

"I'm Claudia, by the way." She glanced back over her shoulder, to where Gilbert was still denying what he had become. "Get some sleep, Gilbert. You'll feel better by the evening."

And she left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Gilbert was shaking, barely registering the fact that he never told Claudia his name.

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**A/N: Yes, vampires are rather quick-tempered~ **

**No, Claudia is not based on a Hetalia character, I just made her up~ But now you know how Gilbert became a Noble~**

**And Claudia will go into more detail about how she sired Gilbert in later chapters, in case you were wondering~ **

**Please review~ XD**

**oh, and P.S. MERRY CHRISTMAS IF YOU ARE IN THE SAME TIMEZONE AS ME! XD **


	10. Mind If I Join You?(M)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

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**WARNING: this chapter contains more mature content so if you don't want to read it then that is fine but please do not complain as this is an M-rated story. You have been warned.**

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**10**

Gilbert clenched the small silver cross in his hand, feeling the tingling as it burnt his skin. He remembered Ludwig, he remembered Claudia, the one who raised him to be such a strong Noble. He remembered how attached he had grown to her; he would have done anything for her. He didn't know whether it was the bond every vampire had with heir Sire, or whether he had simply adored her because he had been her favourite. It always hurt now to think of Claudia, but his fist tightened around the cross she had worn. It never burnt her, she was far too strong for silver to hurt her at all, and she always wore it as a mockery, bragging and boasting about how much more powerful she was. But Gilbert only admired her for it, and after he watched her turn to dust, he claimed the cross as his own – a token to remember her by.

He gently put the cross back in the small encasing he had had made for it, before tying it back around his neck. He needed a layer between the silver and his flesh, or else a cross mark would be engraved deeply into his skin. But he still wore it, and the casing was transparent and discreet, so it was only noticed from a close proximity.

Gilbert straightened up, before touring the many halls of the large house in search of his French friend. Behind the door to Francis' chambers, he heard the giggling and excitement of women, two he predicted. He rapped his knuckles against the door, and a slightly muffled "_oui_" granted his permission to enter. He grinned, opening the door and stepping into the room quickly, closing the door behind him.

Inside, Francis was sprawled on his King-sized bed, with one girl, a brunette, running her hands over his broad, bare chest, while another girl, blonde, looked as if she had only just pulled her lips away from Francis'. The French vampire had one hand draped over the blonde's hip, another gently caressing the brunette's breast, running his index finger over the intricate lace material of her bra.

"Mind if I join you?" The albino grinned, not waiting for a response as he laid down next to the Frenchman and dragged the blonde girl onto his lap. She took the hint and turned her attention to Gilbert, while the slightly older brunette took the opportunity to straddle Francis, sitting just above his crotch and teasingly sliding over it a little. This earned an approving grin from the Frenchman, who grasped her calves to pull her closer.

Gilbert grasped the younger blonde's breasts, considerably more roughly than Francis ever would, and in response she pushed closer to him, her cleavage bursting onto his chest shamelessly. Both vampires often indulged in such pleasures during the daylight, as they never slept and couldn't step out into the light of day. The girls they were with were Nobles as well, but they were far lower in the Noble hierarchy than Francis and Gilbert. But neither woman complained, as to please vampires such as the albino or the Frenchman was a great honour and personal pleasure as well. Francis and Gilbert were almost unnaturally handsome, which was enough to sway nearly any Noble into their beds, male or female.

The brunette captured Francis' lips with her own, gently grinding against him, pleased when she received moans of approval or gestures coaxing her closer. She was far more experienced than the blonde, however, and Gilbert was beginning to get irritated by his companion. The blonde kept changing her mind about how to please the albino, which meant she quickly went from nibbling his earlobe delicately to suddenly grinding against him roughly. Gilbert gave a growl of annoyance and pushed her away.

"You're hopeless, you know that?! Maybe you should learn from her more!" He demanded, gesturing towards the brunette, who had tangled her hands in the Frenchman's hair, neither of them paying the slightest bit of attention to Gilbert or the blonde.

The albino laid back against the soft pillows, letting out a despairing sigh. The blonde girl looked as if she might cry, she had never been rejected before. She watched her brunette companion with envy, before determinedly climbing on top of Gilbert again, sitting just above his crotch and teasing him like the brunette had done. Gilbert glanced at her, before shifting, giving her another chance. He kissed her chest, before flipping them over so he was now on top of her, pinning her down to the mattress. She looked a little afraid, before doing her best to make herself look attractive, arching her back to press her breasts against his chest. Gilbert let go of one of her small wrists and slid the free arm around her waist, before grinding against her fiercely.

It was clear that he was agitated, and he was taking it out on the poor girl. He gripped her tightly and dug his fingers into her back, but when she cried out, he only got angrier. He threw her back against the mattress and clawed a hand down her chest, and she yelped as an audible crack was heard. Gilbert had always been a strong Noble, and had cracked the girl's rib. But he didn't stop, and now the brunette had pulled back from Francis, both of them watching the scene.

Gilbert gave a growl of rage and ripped the bra she was wearing, exposing her, before plunging his hand straight into the girl's chest, cracking more of her ribs and earning screams of agony as he gripped her raw, still heart in his hand. With no mercy left in his eyes, he ripped the heart right out of her chest, and she stopped screaming. The girl paled a little, before crumbling to dust on the bed, her heart also disintegrating in Gilbert's hand. Everything went silent, and the albino stood, storming out of the room.

The brunette stared at the grey pile that was the only trace that the girl had ever been there, an expression of honest surprise on her pretty features.

"I'm afraid my friend is rather bad-tempered..." Francis declared, glancing at her. She paused a moment, before looking back at him with a grin.

"She always was a tart~" she replied carelessly. At this, Francis chuckled, before crashing their lips together again and humming in approval as the brunette trailed her hands down towards his belt hungrily.

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**A/N: um yeah I thought I might try a little experimental chapter…was this okay? Because I always picture vampires as being incredibly pleasure-orientated so…~**

**Please review and let me know what you thought~ AND whether I should later include a more mature FrUK scene, if ya know what I mean~ XD**


	11. That Precious Hunter

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**11**

There was a soft knock at the door, but Gilbert didn't answer. He was fuming, but he knew the blonde girl wasn't at fault.

"_Mon ami_?" Francis called through the door, hoping his voice would entice Gilbert to let him in. The albino remained quiet, sat by the large window, knowing if he just opened the curtains a little he would be burnt by the sunlight. Yet, he didn't care. Despite Gilbert's silence, Francis opened the door and invited himself in. he still lacked a shirt, and it seemed his trousers had been pulled up a little hastily, the belt buckle was still undone. But he did not falter under Gilbert's glare, instead perching on the edge of his bed.

"What the hell do you want?" Gilbert snapped, making Francis only raise an eyebrow.

"To know what is wrong, _mon ami_~" he replied smoothly, meeting Gilbert's glare with his cerulean stare. Francis had always had beautiful eyes, Gilbert recalled. A man could lose himself in them for all eternity, and Gilbert found himself attracted to the other vampire. That was nothing new. Gilbert had always had a strange fondness for Francis, but he had never acted on it before. He looked away from those sparkling, blue eyes and glared at the closed curtains instead.

He never should have taken his eyes off Francis. Within a moment, he felt Francis' bare chest press against his back, and turned, meeting Francis' eyes inches from his own face. The sight was captivating, and Gilbert didn't push the Frenchman away. He didn't want to.

"Won't you tell _moi_?" Francis purred, his voice deepening, sounding more flirtatious to the albino, who ran a hand through the Frenchman's golden locks, before grasping them and pulling Francis closer, but they still only stared at each other. Gilbert's eyes seemed to darken a little, and he released Francis, as if he was no longer in the mood to play with him.

"The hunter." He growled out instead, not paying attention to the raised eyebrow Francis gave him.

"Arthur Kirkland?" he asked, having found out everything he could about the man, ever since he was brought to the Frenchman's attention. "What about him?"

"I recognised his smell." Gilbert didn't pay any attention to Francis' wandering hands as they trailed over the albino's back, tracing his shoulder blades affectionately.

"I didn't think you had even met him before…" Francis mused, letting his hands roam over Gilbert's waist, to caress his chest.

"I could smell him on you when you came back bragging about biting him." Gilbert sneered, baring his teeth a little in annoyance.

He shared a strange bond with Francis. He had been a vampire for longer than the Frenchman had, and so he protected him when he was first brought back to their group. He still didn't like it when Francis sneaked out without telling him, although he knew the Frenchman would not do anything careless. But he still wanted to separate Francis from the hunter, seeing how attached the French vampire had become to teasing and torturing Kirkland. He had been glad when he heard the hunter had moved away, but recently discovered a series of vampire slayings and knew he was back.

"_Et_ you think you encountered him before?" Francis continued obliviously, now delivering gentle kisses to the albino's pale neck.

"I _know_ I have." Gilbert insisted, closing his eyes and enjoying the Frenchman's affection.

"From where?" Francis was persistent, teasing the answer from Gilbert with kisses and touches. The albino gave a sigh in response to the feather-light caresses, and allowed his head to tilt back, leaning against Francis' shoulder, before he opened his eyes again and stared up at the other vampire.

"He was there the day that Claudia was killed." He stated bluntly, and he didn't miss the look of surprise that came over the Frenchman's handsome features. The albino leaned upwards slightly, pressing kisses along Francis' jawline, allowing the other to draw the conclusion.

"But…he could have only been a boy then – " Francis began, and Gilbert hummed in agreement.

"Ten years old." He confirmed, and Francis frowned in confusion.

"How could a ten year-old boy possibly kill a _Primus_ vampire?" were his words, and Gilbert reached up, tracing the Frenchman's face silently. _Primus _vampires were the highest, strongest and most powerful vampires of them all. There was only a small population of them across the world, and Claudia had been one of them.

"Do you forget that he had the very best hunter to train him? I would expect nothing less." Gilbert sat up again, turning to face him.

"But, still…it's simply not possible." Francis shook his head, and Gilbert cupped the Frenchman's face in his pale hands.

"It is, Francis. You know it is." Francis looked away, but Gilbert gently brought his face to look at him again.

"Your precious Arthur Kirkland killed Claudia. We cannot let him live any longer. I will kill him as soon as the sun sets." Francis was quiet a moment, taking Gilbert's hands away from his face, before leaning in and whispering in the albino's ear.

"Save me a bite~" the Frenchman grinned, pulling back and offering a mocking bow before retreating from the room.

Gilbert stared after him, a smirk on his features. "But of course, _mein freund_~"

He rose and left the room as well, but turned right and descended down a narrow, spiralling staircase that led to the darkest, lowest level of the magnificent house. An inhuman growling and shrieking could be heard as he selected a door at random from the five that greeted him at the foot of the stairs, and opened it.

Grinning to himself, he closed the door behind him, and after a few moments, one of the inhuman cries was silenced permanently.

* * *

**A/N: you'll find out what Gilbert did and why in the next chapter, because I love leaving cliff-hangers for you ;) **

**Please review and tell me what you think so far~**


	12. The Game Has Begun

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**12**

Arthur plunged his stake into the chest of the third common vampire he had come across that evening, and watched with satisfaction as it froze before turning to dust before him. The stake fell, clattering on the damp cobblestones, and Arthur picked it up again quickly, tucking it into his coat pocket. He stepped lightly out of the alley, finding himself greeted by the good old London streets that were bustling with people finishing their shopping or coming home from work this evening. He smiled to himself, feeling the buzz that he always felt after killing a vampire, and joined the crowd of people flowing down the street, fancying a nice hot bath and then an early night in his hotel room.

Arthur was lost in his thoughts and didn't realise he was in someone's path until he knocked shoulders with them.

"Excuse me…" Arthur apologised automatically.

"Ah, _non. Excusez-moi, mon cher_~" Arthur froze. That voice. He knew that voice. He reached out and grabbed the arm of the person, daring to meet their cerulean gaze and saw their glinting smile.

_Mon cher…_

"You…" Arthur was overcome with the rage he had pent up for more than three years, and gripped the vampire's wrist more tightly.

"_Bonsoir_, Arthur Kirkland~" Francis chimed merrily, offering a sweet smile, but his eyes sparkled with evil.

Arthur reached for the stake in his pocket, but the Frenchman hummed in caution. "Now, now. Causing a scene is not very professional for a Vampire Hunter, _mon cher_~"

Arthur looked back at the vampire in silent rage, but his lips parted slightly and he stopped in shock as he saw the Frenchman's cerulean orbs.

_They were so…captivating, remarkable, beautiful… _

"…W-What do you want?" Arthur managed, unable to tear his gaze away from Francis' eyes. Seeing this, the French vampire smirked and stepped in closer, his face inches from Arthur's.

The people bustling down the street seemed not to acknowledge them, simply dividing around them and continuing on their way, as if they could not see the Noble and the slayer.

"To warn you, _mon cher_~" he whispered, and Arthur seemed to suddenly realise how close Francis was to him, stepping back with a blush on his stubborn features that Francis found cute. Arthur tore his gaze away from Francis' breaking the spell of his cerulean stare.

"Warn me? Warn me about what? Why on earth would you try to help me in such a way?" He demanded, careful not to raise his voice and attract the attention of the oblivious public. Francis smirked, clearly amused by Arthur's sudden caution, noticing how easily he could cause Arthur to let his guard down.

"Help you? Why, I'm merely making the game a little more interesting~" he grinned, showing a glimpse of his pearl-white fangs.

"Game?" Arthur's hand closed around the stake in his pocket, wanting badly to plunge it into the Noble's heart but knowing he couldn't with so many people around.

"_Oui, mon cher_. A game where the Hunter becomes the hunted~" At this, Arthur was about to pull the stake from his pocket, but Francis clasped the Hunter's wrist in an iron grip, tugging him closer once more, forcing Arthur to meet his gaze.

"Watch your back, _mon cher_. You have peaked the interest of others with your little slaying spree~" he grinned again, so close that Arthur could see the tips of his fangs glinting in the evening light. "But don't die right away, Arthur. I want my chance to play with you~"

Arthur yanked his arm free of the vampire, before walking past him, having too much dignity to thank him. But he did heed Francis' words, and the Frenchman smirked as he saw the Hunter heading the opposite way to his hotel.

_Ah, yes. Now they were all players in this game of the living and the undead._

XxX

Francis heard the angry footsteps storming down the lavish corridor leading to the ballroom and smirked. He leaned back in the grand, intricately patterned chair that served as a vampirical throne and was situated at the back of the ballroom, overlooking the polished expanse of floor from a level two steps higher. The huge double doors were shoved open, giving way to Gilbert as he marched across the hall, grabbing Francis by the collar once he reached him.

"What the hell are you playing at?!" He hissed, hauling Francis out of the seat but not allowing him the space to stand properly.

"Playing at?" Francis asked innocently, feigning ignorance but allowing the smirk to dance about his features mockingly.

"I saw you talking to that Hunter right after we agreed I would kill him! Then I find that Kirkland never came back to his hotel room!" Gilbert was furious, that much was clear, but Francis wasn't fazed, waiting calmly while Gilbert vented his rage.

"What the hell did you tell him?!" the albino demanded, always finding that his emotions were taken to extremes whenever Francis was involved. The Frenchman was infuriating, but Gilbert never wanted to be rid of him.

"Only to watch his back, _mon ami_~" Francis stated, his voice a soothing purr compared to Gilbert's almost cracking fury. "I thought it would only be fair to give him a head-start, or else I wouldn't get to play with him for very long~"

"Play with him? You think he's some sort of toy?" Gilbert drew back a little, releasing Francis and letting him fall back into the chair. He remained stood over him, however, still wanting answers.

"Not a toy. A pet, perhaps. One I can tame and tease and watch as he can do nothing to fight back~" the Frenchman grinned, and Gilbert saw the look in his cerulean eyes. It was one he hadn't seen for a long time – one of almost sick amusement, and he almost pitied the Hunter. He had no clue what Francis had in mind for Kirkland, but he didn't want to be a part of it.

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again." He finally ground out, but he backed down the steps in retreat, having forgotten that Francis was as powerful as he was, yet the Frenchman didn't show it. Where Gilbert had physical strength, Francis had a power of manipulation. One look at his cerulean eyes and you were under some sort of spell, everything around you slowed down and you completely forgot what you had been going to do.

Gilbert had been caught in Francis' cerulean stare too many times, and no matter how strong he was, he had not been able to overcome it yet. He swept across the ballroom as he had entered before, dragging the huge double doors closed behind him again.

Francis continued to sit where Gilbert had dropped him, a growing smirk on his features once more.

_Don't expect me to be siding with you, just because we are of the Noble breed,_ mon ami

_I am on my own side, and I will win._

* * *

**A/N: now the game has begun~**

**Please review~~~~~~**


	13. Matthew (Part 1)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**13**

Four figures slunk through the night, each hooded and shielding their faces from the moonlight. Claudia led the procession, with a tanned young man behind her, his sparkling green eyes anticipating risk as they moved. Gilbert took up the rear of the group, walking behind the smaller figure of a boy. The boy had wavy blonde hair and almost violet eyes, and jumped at every little disturbance of the quiet. Gilbert pitied the boy, he must be scared. It was the child's first time on a hunt, and his father had entrusted Gilbert with his safety. Antonio, the tanned one in front of the boy, had also been asked to care for the boy, so Claudia had offered to go with them. They crept along in silence, reaching an old warehouse that had been deserted for years. The little boy turned to Gilbert, about to ask why they were going into an abandoned warehouse, but Gilbert pressed a finger to his lips before ushering the boy inside to follow Claudia. The old warehouse was somewhat notorious for attracting teenagers to have parties or to bring someone to make out with or more. It was an isolated place, the nearest building was half a mile away, so it was the perfect opportunity for the first hunt.

The boy had intrigued Gilbert from the moment he met him, as he was the youngest vampire the albino had ever encountered. Gilbert had been told that the boy had already killed someone: a young woman who had been his aunt. But you wouldn't believe it looking at him. The child was innocent and afraid, anxious to fit in with the other Nobles. He knew this was his chance to prove himself, and watched the three adult vampires closely, imitating their sly and cautious movement.

Gilbert saw Claudia raise a hand in what seemed like a dismissive gesture, realising she was signalling to be quiet. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, and the child jumped before glancing back at Gilbert and understanding as the albino pressed a finger to his own lips. As they listened, the vampires could make out the sound of giggling and excited whispers. They drew closer, sticking to the shadows as a couple of teenagers came into view. Barely more than seventeen, the girl was straddling the boy's lap, kissing him in between her flirtatious laughter. They were far too engrossed in each other to notice the presence of the four vampires, not that they could be seen amidst the dark shadows of the old warehouse.

Claudia glanced back at her group, offering a small smile to the boy, before signalling for Antonio to approach the couple from another angle, and he steps with swift silence, flashing a happy smile at the boy before he vanished into the recesses of the warehouse, and Gilbert could no longer see him. The boy glanced at Gilbert, silently asking what his role was in this. Gilbert put a hand on his shoulder briefly, signalling they were to stay put for now, as Claudia stepped forward under the overhang that once served as the upper level of the warehouse, but now its purpose was to shield the vampire from being seen.

Not a sound was heard, save for the laughter of the girl as the boy tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and pulled her closer for a kiss. Gilbert crouched next to the child, whispering what he had to do, pleased when he was answered with a small nod. Hesitantly, the boy stepped out from the shadows, into the view of the two teenagers.

"E-Excuse me…" he spoke quietly, but the girl still jumped at the sound, as the teenagers thought they were alone. Upon seeing the boy, she detached herself from her boyfriend.

"Are you lost, kid?" she asked kindly, ignoring the protests from the other teenager, crouching down to the child's level. He nodded, his almost-violet eyes catching the moonlight a little and they sparkled. The girl gave a smile.

"Hey, it's okay. What, were you playing out in the woods or something?" the boy shuffled closer, giving a small nod, just going with whatever she wanted to believe. Gilbert watched from the shadows, silent as a predator observing its prey. He was impressed the boy was so convincing, now seeing that the child was only a few steps away from the girl. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Antonio standing directly behind the male teenager, still immersed in the darkness of the warehouse though.

To the other vampires' astonishment, the child started to cry, covering his face with small hands and trembling a little. Gilbert made to move forwards but Claudia gestured for him to stop, knowing that the child was only luring the teenage girl.

"I…I want my mummy…" he mumbled, his voice broken by innocent sobs, and the girl closed the distance between them with a comforting hug. Her boyfriend watched from afar, jealous that her attention was on the child and not him.

"It's alright, I'll help you find – " her soothing words turned into a scream as the boy exposed his fangs, biting into his neck swiftly and cleanly. His violet eyes had turned red and with a strength a boy his age should not have had, he held her shoulders in a firm grip as she struggled against him.

The teenage boy had not had the chance to rush to her aid, as Antonio had grabbed him from behind when he rose from his seat, drinking his fill quickly and quietly, leaving some for Gilbert later and laying the teenager back in the seat he had previously sat in alive.

The girl's scream subsided into nothing as she went limp, and the child pulled back, laying her down gently on the floor and using a tissue Claudia handed him to wipe his mouth. Gilbert was amused at how such a sweet boy had just killed and drank from the girl, but he had heard rumours of the boy doing the same thing before, to his own aunt.

Claudia looked down at the boy, offering her most pleasant of smiles. "Well done, Matthew. You have not disappointed us." At this, the boy beamed, a trace of blood still on his now-retracting fangs.

"Your _Papa_ will be proud of you, Matthew~" Antonio chimed, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. Both he and Gilbert were friends with Matthew's father, and had been entrusted to supervise him on this hunt, but it looked like the boy could handle himself well.

"We'd best get back. It will be dawn soon." Claudia announced, and they started back towards the door when all for a sudden, a window above them shattered.

Gilbert could instantly sense who it was, and knew that this night could very well be their last.

* * *

**A/N: Hi, guys! I'm really sorry for not posting since 2014 but general life has kept getting in the way! :O but I hope you will forgive me and review so I know you don't hate me for being such a poo with updating~**

**And you will find out who the unexpected guest is next chapter~~~~**


	14. Valuable

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**14**

Francis could remember his son perfectly. The blonde hair with the singular, wild curl that always bounced up and down when he moved. His almost violet eyes, and his shy demeanour.

Gilbert had said that the Hunter had killed Claudia, which meant he had also killed sweet, little Matthew. Francis gritted his teeth, remembering Arthur's stern features and determined glance, wondering what it would be like to sink his fangs into Arthur even deeper and drain him of his life. But he had not felt that urge before, not until he thought of the son he lost years ago.

Francis crossed the room to a small wooden chest tucked neatly under his bed, and pulled it out. His hands trembled as he opened it, knowing what he would find. Inside was a small, white bear, grubby from age and worn from love. He stared at the bear a long moment, not quite able to bring himself to hold it. Matthew had loved that bear, although he could never remember what he had named it, so Francis used to joke that the bear did not remember Matthew's name either.

Silent tears slipped down his cheeks as he finally reached for the bear, hugging it close to him and for once, instead of building emotional walls against his son's memory, he took refuge in the faint remnants of Matthew's scent, the bear's soft fur and his many sweet memories of the child.

Francis wept, his sobs echoing as far as Gilbert's room. The albino vampire glanced up, but knew this was a time when Francis needed to be alone, silently mourning Claudia instead.

XxX

Arthur made his way down the dark alleys as nimbly as a cat, intent on revisiting the crime scenes of Rose Holly and Emily Wren, which had still been left intact at his request. The bodies had been moved and buried already, and just before the yellow 'crime scene' tape that marked the perimeter of Rose Holly's crime scene, there was a small bunch of flowers left by Miss Holly's parents. Arthur had spoken with each of the parents regarding the chance that it was normal for either of the young women to walk down dark alleys at night. They all confirmed it was uncharacteristic.

As Arthur approached the deserted crime scene, his thoughts were dashed by a brief recollection of the French vampire's cerulean eyes, how they had captivated him. That was why the woman were coming down into the alleys. He was using some form of hypnotism, he was sure of it.

"You're easy to find, Hunter." Arthur would have jumped a mile if he hadn't defensively drawn his stake first and spun around. He knew who it was. Sure enough, Francis was lounging on the slope of one of the roofs that bowed down into the alley, watching him with wary but somewhat sad eyes.

"You say that like I was trying to hide." Arthur replied, on his guard in case Francis hadn't come alone.

Francis' expression seemed to harden, and he picked up one of the roof-slates, fiddling with it calmly before throwing it to the floor where it shattered on the cold cobblestones. Arthur's hand felt for his stake again, seeing that the French vampire was angry, though he didn't know exactly why.

The vampire had gone silent, staring at the smashed pieces of the slate a moment, before clenching one fist, attempting to keep control of himself, at least for now.

"Eight years old…" his voice was a whisper that sent a shiver through Arthur, but the Hunter did not show his reaction. Instead he stayed quiet, wondering what Francis was talking about.

"…My son was eight years old when you killed him." Now there was underlying tone of anger in Francis' previously calm and contained voice. He flashed a stare at Arthur, his cerulean eyes taking on a small tint of red at the pupils.

"Your son?" Arthur sounded calm and nonchalant, not letting the vampire know how wary he was becoming of him. "I don't kill ones as young as that." His tone was only fuel to the vampire's fiery rage, and in one swift movement, Francis was in front of Arthur, less than a metre away.

_Within staking distance._

"You were there in the warehouse that night. It was my son's first time outside since he turned and you….!" Francis couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence, his cerulean eyes now seeping into a blood-red colour. This was a sign that meant a vampire was in a more dangerous state, often unpredictable. Arthur had his stake firmly in one hand, a small bottle of a clear liquid in the other, concealing it behind his back.

"I told you, I've never killed a child." Arthur responded, but barely had time to finish the last word before he was rushed off his feet, pushed back by the French vampire's sudden strength. He slammed into the alley's brick wall, feeling a stab of pain shoot through him from his back. Grimacing, he glimpsed the infuriated vampire standing over him, his expression that of a monster, next to no trace of the sane being he had been before. The only thing that seemed to prevent him from losing his mind was the thought of his eight-year old son.

Arthur struggled to his feet, feeling throbbing pain in his back and having to use the assistance of the wall to aid him. He anticipated that Francis would run at him again, this time able to dodge it, sidestepping the clumsy now enraged vampire and forcing him to fall hard against the bricks, like he had. Francis hissed, his animalistic behaviour something Arthur usually saw in Common vampires. It was rare for a Noble to be acting this way.

The hunter acted quickly, flicking the transparent liquid at Francis, who shrieked as the blessed water seared his flesh. It didn't wound him greatly, but it stunned him enough for Arthur to aim his stake. Francis didn't have time to react as the stake was plunged into his chest, missing his heart by a few crucial millimetres. Francis reeled back in pain, screeching with an inhuman voice, before falling back against the damp cobblestones of the alleyway. Arthur was angry that he missed, pulling the stake out harshly.

This time, he pressed the tip of the bloody stake against Francis' chest where he knew he would stroke his heart, but he glanced up at the vampire's features. The red in his eyes was gone, now a weakened cerulean again. Something inside him made him pause, staring at those eyes, before they closed. Francis' blood was seeping through his shirt, and he lay limp on the stones. Arthur knew that losing a lot of blood quickly weakened vampires and sometimes killed them, but Arthur didn't want to leave this one for dead.

This was a Noble; a valuable weapon to have.

* * *

**A/N: Many apologies again for not updating quickly. I have exams starting in a week so I wanted to do this before they started, and I tried to make it a little longer and hopefully more interesting. **

**Please review because I'll need something to cheer me up when I'm up to my neck in boring revision DX **


	15. So Very Hungry

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**15**

Francis dragged his eyes open, feeling groggy like someone who had woken up after being given anaesthetic. He couldn't see much of his surroundings as the room was dark and his eyes were still adjusting. Being a vampire meant that they had enhanced vision in the dark, able to see as clearly as if it were day. But Francis was out-of-sorts, failing to glimpse his surroundings properly, and he didn't remember what had happened until he felt a throbbing pain from his chest. Slowly, he began to remember seeking the Hunter, but his memory of their fight was blurred, as everything had happened so rapidly. He soon discovered that he couldn't move as he had chains around each wrist, pulling his arms out to the side of him as if he was being crucified. They gave a little room for him to shift, and he tried to stand, but his legs trembled and he slumped back to the floor.

"Ironic, isn't it?" the voice of Arthur Kirkland echoed in the dark room, and Francis froze, suddenly knowing he was being watched. The room was cold and seemed to be large, as Arthur's voice reverberated off each wall, making it difficult to pinpoint where the Hunter was. When Francis didn't respond, Arthur smirked, staying concealed in the shadows.

"Just days ago you were a strong, Noble vampire who taunted and fought me. Now look at you. Even less than a Common vampire in the state you're in." His casual tone made Francis grit his teeth, and the vampire glared into the darkness as he could just about make out Arthur's figure now.

His response was met by a mocking chuckle. "Have I offended you? My apologies, but it's what you get for boasting about your power…"

Francis remembered how he had been close enough to sink his fans into Arthur before, and now he was humiliated to be in chains and barely able to stand without shaking. He let out a low, animalistic growl, still seeming to be in a more creature-like state than human. Arthur stepped forward, his emerald eyes showing a hint of sadism as he studied the suffering vampire. His cruel smirk made Francis narrow his eyes and he pulled against the chains, hating that Arthur could be so close and yet so far out of his reach.

The chains tightened around Francis' wrists but he found himself only inches away from Arthur, so close he could hear the blood pumping through Arthur's veins; it was enough to drive him insane as he struggled even more against the heavy chains. He stilled momentarily when Arthur touched his cheek, stunned by the almost affectionate gesture, but now Arthur's wrist was so close to Francis that if he was just a little closer he could taste his blood again. Arthur smirked, knowing how much this was driving Francis crazy, and continued the torture by tracing a finger over Francis' bared fangs, confident that the vampire was harmless.

Francis growled again at this, lunging forward, but this time Arthur delivered a painful blow to Francis' chest, targeting his still healing wound. The vampire fell backwards, collapsing to the floor again with a small whine of pain. His fangs slowly retracted and his blood-red eyes faded back to their human cerulean.

He didn't have the strength to keep fighting this, but he was hungry. _So very hungry_.

"Why…are you keeping me here?" he asked eventually, his voice tired and weak like the rest of him felt, not bothering to hide it anymore. Arthur didn't answer, turning to retreat back into the shadows now that his little torture session had ended. This made Francis grow angry again, and with a strained voice he yelled after him.

"Why haven't you just killed me already?!" But Arthur ignored him, and the slam of a hidden door echoed around the large, dark room.

Francis slumped again, a thousand questions in his mind, and none of them answered.

_If only I could have something to eat…_

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it's such a short chapter, but I haven't updated in a month so I thought I should~ The good news is I only have a few exams left so once they're over I will be able to update far more regularly. **

**Thank you for your patience thus far, and as always, your reviews are greatly valued~ **


	16. Blood

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**16**

Arthur sat on the edge of his bed – which was more just a few old blankets covering the small window sill of the deserted factory he had found – pondering a deep sense of something he could not quite fathom. He had had another dream that replayed the night that Francis sank his fangs into Arthur's neck, and try as he might, he could not ignore the feeling of immense pleasure it had brought. The thrill of being so close to death – of being so near to being killed by the one thing he hunted, was an experience that should have spurred him into a more angry hatred of vampires. But a nagging thought questioned what it would be like to have a vampire feed on you, sucking the life out of you hungrily and mercilessly.

Arthur caught himself imagining Francis behind him again, tracing a cold hand over the puncture marks he had left, intending on reopening the wounds that had scarred as two little marks on the side of his neck. He stood, knowing that the longer he was left alone with his thoughts, the more they would eat away at him until he was mad enough to give Francis another chance to kill him.

Pulling on his coat, he checked that a stake was in the left breast pocket before leaving the old factory silently, deciding that killing a few common vampires would be a good enough distraction for him.

XxX

_…Blood...Blood…_

Francis awoke from his sleep-like state, sweat-drenched and aching. Arthur hadn't let his arms down and he had lost track of how long he had been here in this large, dark room.

A few hours, a few days?

It could have been weeks already for all Francis knew. But how long he had been here didn't worry him. It was the fact that he was starting to get very hungry, having never let himself get to this stage before.

It was dangerous for a vampire if they couldn't feed within a certain time, and they began to lose control of their actions and lunge at anyone who could be food. They were both the most violent and vulnerable at this time, as they wouldn't have enough sense to react if someone like a Hunter were to try and kill them.

Francis knew he wasn't going anywhere with these chains still strangling his wrists, but he could tear himself to pieces if he didn't get food soon. All at once, he began to smell something. He knew the smell, and as it came closer to him he began to writhe and struggle against his chains. It was the smell of food. _The smell of blood_.

By the time Arthur opened the heavy metal door to Francis' prison room, the French vampire was thrashing against the chains so hard that they clanked against the stone floor loudly, his inhuman growls reverberating eerily around the room. Arthur stopped, almost horrified at the scene, before delving into his pocket and pulling out a blood bag. He was afraid it would be dangerous to get too close to Francis without protection, so he held his little bottle of Holy Water in his other hand, ready to throw at Francis' face if he tried to attack him.

He barely had a chance to hold the blood bag up before Francis sank his teeth into the plastic, too hungry to care where the blood came from. As he was feeding, Arthur glanced over the vampire. His eyes were blood-red and his wrists were chafed and bloody where he had fought against the chains. His clothes were dishevelled and his shirt had split at the seams from where he had been tensing and thrashing so much, now lying in delicate, silk pieces on the floor. His bare chest heaved as the vampire was beginning to calm, the blood bag thinning as he sucked every drop of blood from it. The bandages on Francis' chest were stained with red as he had reopened the wound Arthur had given him with the stake, and Arthur made a mental note to change them again when Francis was completely calm.

Francis finally pulled back, his fangs retracting as a few drops of blood still dotted the edges of his mouth, but his face was surprisingly clean for how desperately he drank from the blood bag, which was now just wrinkled plastic stained a little pink from its previous contents. The vampire slumped, having used all his strength to writhe in anticipation of his meal, his eyes fading back to cerulean again. Arthur tossed the empty blood bag aside, kneeling to examine Francis. He barely got a response as he touched a cold shoulder, as Francis glanced at him, but didn't make a move to fight against him. He seemed more resigned to his situation now, just grateful he had been fed.

"Where did you get it?" he finally asked, his accent thick with weariness as he glanced at the shrivelled and empty blood bag.

"A small group of Commons were raiding a crashed ambulance. I killed them and took a few of the blood bags, figuring they wouldn't be missed." Arthur explained, not seeing any reason to lie to Francis, but the vampire narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Why are you keeping me here?" It was the same question he had asked a few days ago, and Arthur was hesitant in answering him. He had intended on somehow bending him to his will and forcing him to fight against the other Nobles, but since a few days ago when Arthur last saw Francis, the Hunter had begun to experience conflicting emotions and urges that queried his original plan.

He didn't know how to give an answer, but before he could say anything more, the chains clinked as Francis slumped even more, laying on the floor as he was too tired to wait for an answer. Arthur looked over the vampire again, feeling an urge to touch his cold chest, but he caught himself and went to get some fresh bandages instead.

* * *

**A/N: So, I found some more time to write~ Not much time but I hope this was okay. I also tried to make it a reasonable length to make up for the terribly short last chapter. **

**It's not much, but please review~**


	17. Those Eyes

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**17**

_I feel his hands trace over my chest. I open my eyes, lost in the cerulean of his. I see him smirk: he was enjoying this. Enjoying seeing me so weak and vulnerable. I should push him away. Why did I let him out of his chains? Why is he here? How did we – I lose all sense of logic as I feel an immense pleasure. My hands tangle in his golden locks and I let out a low moan. I blush as the sound had escaped unwillingly, but he only captures my lips with his own, moving against me. I am vaguely aware of his hand dancing over my skin, lower and lower until…_

Arthur's eyes snapped open as he woke breathing heavily. He took a moment to register that his dream was just that. But his body didn't seem to think so as there was a definite bulge under his blanket. He blushed, but what confused him the most was why he had had such a dream about him and, of all people in the entire universe, Francis.

XxX

Gilbert was agitated. He sat at the head of a long, polished dark wood table, where around twenty other Noble vampires were seated. There was only one seat that was still unoccupied, and Gilbert drummed his fingers against the table in irritation.

"Where is he?" he finally demanded, not missing the nervous glances that passed among the vampires. Gilbert was known for his short temper, and they didn't want to bear the brunt of it by being the first to tell him. When no one answered him, the albino vampire rose and slammed both his fists into the table, triggering a splintering sound as the wood cracked until the force of it.

"Where is he?!" his vice was thunder and the vampires nearest to him flinched. After a few moments, one of the female vampires near the other end of the table rose.

"Francis has not been seen for a few days." She was pretty, with porcelain skin and light blonde hair, and Gilbert studied her from across the table, seeing how her hands were shaking and her eyes were trained on the floor in front of her. "He…We think he went after the Hunter again."

Gilbert sighed, it sounding like the hiss of an angry snake, before sitting back in his chair and putting his feet up on the splintered table. "Well…what are we to do about that…" he seemed to be pondering, but the other vampires could not tell if he was speaking to himself or addressing them. The blonde woman sat down again, and the room fell heavy with a pregnant silence, waiting for Gilbert to speak again.

The vampire studied everyone in the room, his crimson stare making everyone uneasy.

"You three." He pointed to the three sat on the right-hand side next to him. "Find the Hunter and bring him to me. I want him alive." No one moved, and Gilbert almost growled at the allocated vampires. "NOW!" they leapt out of their seats, rushing from the room to do as they were bid.

"The rest of you. I want any information you have on Francis and that damned Hunter. Where he is keeping Francis, the condition he has kept him in." They nod in turn, standing and filing out of the room. The blonde woman was the last to leave, and Gilbert stops her, the doors swinging shut as the two remaining vampires relished the momentary silence.

"What is your name?" he asked, glancing over her. She was indeed attractive, a small waist and a large bust, revealed by a scarlet dress that hugged her figure marvellously.

"Victoria." She replied simply, seeing how his gaze stopped at her chest, and smirking a little. "See something you like?"

At this, Gilbert seemed to catch himself, straightening up, but he didn't say anything in apology or denial, just watching her. "I want you to do something for me."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow, her almost silver, sparkling eyes meeting his gaze in curiosity.

Gilbert nodded, a small smirk gracing his lips. "You can come with me." He led her towards the door, a hand on her arm just above the elbow. But he time they were out of the room, that hand had already travelled down her back.

XxX

Francis woke, not feeling the cold, hard harshness of the floor he had been sleeping on for the past few days. He opened his eyes to see he was on a bed. At least, he thought it was a bed. It was make-shift and mainly consisted of blankets, but it was far more comfortable than the floor. He was tempted to go back to sleep, but he was beginning to realise he wasn't in the room he had been in before. He shifted a little, discovering that only one of his wrists had a chain on it: the other was free.

"You're finally awake."

Arthur's voice was so close it startled the vampire, and he turned to see Arthur sat in a chair close to him, watching him with an intent emerald stare.

"…Why…?" Francis tugged at the chain, wondering why he had been moved. He could feel the hunter staring at him, and the vampire met his gaze again, detecting a hint of predatory stare in his look.

"Do you want to go back to sleeping on the floor?" Arthur asked sharply, but he seemed to be struggling with something. Francis suddenly felt very vulnerable, and tried to move. But Arthur had already risen from his seat, going over to the bed silently. As Francis tugged at the chains, Arthur caught his free wrist, clasping Francis' throat with one strong hand. The vampire struggled, and Arthur's grip tightened so much that Francis squeezed his eyes shut, letting out small noises of pain and discomfort.

"Look at me." Arthur demanded, yanking Francis up against the wall by his throat. "Look at me!"

Francis slowly opened his eyes again, meeting Arthur's predatory gaze with a meek, confused and afraid glance.

Those eyes. So blue. Arthur remembered his dream, the bright, cerulean eyes. The irresistible feel of his hands over Arthur's skin. Before he could control his urges, Arthur kissed Francis.

The vampire was stunned, but soon all thoughts flew from his mind as his eyes closed again. The grip released on his throat as he kissed Arthur back, hungrily and lustful. Arthur coiled a hand in Francis' golden hair, yanking it back to separate the kiss, exposing the vampire's neck.

"Let's see how you like it." the hunter growled, before biting down hard on the flesh of Francis' neck, eliciting a moan which made Arthur's eyes spark.

"A-Arthur…" Francis' low voice made Arthur pause. This wasn't a dream. This was…this was…Arthur pulled back suddenly, leaving Francis to slump back against the wall at his absence. His neck was bleeding: Arthur had drawn blood from the bite he had given him. His hair was tousled and his eyes were a little glazed but somehow brighter than he had ever seen them. He was watching Arthur, not saying a word.

Arthur stood, averting his eyes from the all-too-tempting sight of the dishevelled vampire and all but running from the room, slamming the metal door behind him.

Francis observed him leave, before reaching his free hand to touch the bite mark Arthur had given him, smiling softly.

"A Hunter biting a vampire….now that's a first." His low laugh reverberated around the whole warehouse, plaguing Arthur as he left Francis behind in his room.

* * *

**A/N: So, they got close~ But I must confess I've never actually written full-on smut before so I'm kind of maybe slightly delaying it~ (I'm sorry!) But it will happen, I promise! I just don't know when…**

**Review for smut! I joke, but reviews are greatly appreciated~**


	18. Dance For Dominance(M)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**WARNING: M-rated material beginning to form at the end of the chapter! XD**

**Enjoy~**

**18**

Arthur punched and staked his way through the alleys, finding any unfortunate vampire who happened to cross his path and dealing with it swiftly. But he didn't care about them. He couldn't stop thinking about the damned vampire he still had chained up in that warehouse. Francis now knew what Arthur had been dreaming, even thinking about. The easy thing would be to stake him, but Arthur could no longer bring himself to raise a stake to the Noble. Every time he got close to Francis, he just wanted to grab him and kiss him and – but it was not appropriate, or even bloody sensible to start making out with a vampire. Arthur was meant to kill vampires, and the vampires were meant to try and kill Arthur. They weren't meant to be in damn romantic relationships!

Arthur slammed his fist against a brick wall in his frustration, before feeling the pain shoot through his hand and grimacing at his mistake. He knew he had to go back to the warehouse at some point, but Francis was still in his room. The thought of this made his heart race, but he couldn't allow himself to have such a reaction. Francis was a vampire – albeit a very attractive vampire – but a vampire nonetheless! He could not have such thoughts about an undead creature.

_…So why do I feel like this? _

No matter how hard Arthur tried, he could not seem to rationalise that Francis was a vampire who wanted him dead. A few weeks ago, he would have staked Francis as much as the French vampire would have sunk his teeth into him again. But now, he had no interest in slaying Francis – if the vampire decided to attack him, he may not even bring himself to raise a stake to him.

Reluctantly, Arthur made his way back to the warehouse, slipping in through one of the broken windows at the back, which he had made his usual entrance and exit. He was as quiet as a mouse as he kept to the shadows until he located the room he had left Francis in. He paused outside the door, trying to judge Francis' state, before the familiar voice of the French vampire sounded behind him, making him freeze.

"I was wondering when you would get back."

He was out of his chains, Arthur realised, feeling a chill at the danger he was now in.

XxX

After Arthur had left, flushed and silent, Francis allowed himself a smile. He had not expected the Hunter to kiss him like that, much less bite him, but Francis knew that Arthur couldn't resist him for long. Francis' vampirical talent was that he could put thoughts and desires into people's heads while he made eye-contact with them, and he had needed Arthur to get close. He hadn't known exactly what desires would form in Arthur's mind: the desire to kill him; the want to touch him; perhaps the need just to be close to him. Francis didn't complain about the outcome, as there was a certain thrill to kissing a Hunter when you were a vampire. But it had worked out in his favour anyway, as while he was entertaining Arthur's lips with his own, the hand that Arthur allowed to be free had slipped into his pocket, where he had seen Arthur place the key to his chains. Once he had left, Francis had freed himself of the chains that chafed his wrist, finding the small stash of blood bags Arthur had stolen and draining each one. But he hadn't strayed from the warehouse, wanting Arthur to come back so he could taste his blood one final time, to feel Arthur's life slip away from him as he yielded to Francis' fangs.

Now, he was standing behind the Hunter, a smile gracing his lips as he saw Arthur tense, slowly turning to face him. He didn't ask how Francis had escaped from his chains, and to Francis' surprise, he didn't even reach for the stake that the vampire knew was in his left pocket. He watched the Hunter warily, but Arthur made no attempt to defend himself against the threat of the vampire.

Arthur turned to face Francis fully, seeing the vampire did not have a shirt, as Arthur had not replaced the one he had torn, and noting that Francis' fangs had not yet extended to their feeding state. He didn't look threatening, save for the uncomfortable gaze that Francis was aiming at Arthur's throat. The Hunter seemed to forget completely about the stake in his pocket, locking his gaze with Francis' as the vampire lifted his stare to study Arthur's face. Francis was trying to work out why Arthur wasn't doing anything but standing there.

Arthur realised his vulnerability suddenly: Francis was faster and stronger than him, and he could see more clearly in the darkened warehouse. Also, Arthur knew full well that he didn't want to harm Francis, finding himself already freezing in place as the vampire's cerulean eyes bored into him. Francis could end it right here, right now. Arthur would be powerless to stop him.

"A vampire shouldn't be able to tell when a Hunter is afraid, _mon cher_." Francis smirked lightly, but Arthur didn't even react to what he said. The Hunter was staring at him, not moving. He raised an eyebrow slightly, suspicious of a plan Arthur might be forming.

"Who said I was afraid?" the Hunter replied eventually, keeping his gaze level with Francis'. "I don't care what you do to me." he said simply, his expression not betraying anything.

"Really? Have you given up on life already, _mon cher_?" Francis pouted a little, his eyes showing amusement and a hint of a predatory look as he stared back at Arthur.

"Are you going to stand here talking all day? Because I really don't want to have to listen to your bloody annoying accent for longer than I have to." Arthur's expression was challenging, almost willing Francis to pierce his throat again.

The vampire was amused by this, the smirk renewing on his pale features as he took a step towards Arthur. It was only one step, but Francis suddenly thought back to when Arthur had kissed him, remembering a flutter in his chest he had not felt in a very long time. He paused, feeling a shadow of Arthur biting his neck, the memory of the thrill of it flooding him again.

Arthur could see the vampire was suddenly distracted, and darted towards him, pulling his stake from his pocket. He didn't want to hurt Francis, but he had a duty to perform. He was a Hunter, as Francis was a vampire. He knew what he had to do.

Francis saw the movement, breaking out of his thoughts just before Arthur barrelled into him, knocking him against the wall. Quick as a flash, Arthur had the stake pressed against Francis' chest, directly in line with his no longer beating heart. The vampire was surprised, grunting in pain as his back slammed against the hard wall, before stilling when he felt the stake pointing at his heart. But Arthur's expression didn't match his actions, and Francis could see a mix of emotions crossing Arthur's features, from determination to regret, and then it settled on a look of what Francis could only recognise as lust. It was the same expression Arthur had unintentionally donned before he had kissed Francis before, and the vampire only just had the time to link it back when he felt Arthur's lips press against his own for the second time.

Francis lost all care for their situation as Arthur's tongue delved into his mouth, unaware that his lips had even parted for the Hunter. He no longer felt the pressure of the stake against his heart, but it was forgotten anyway as Francis tugged Arthur closer, fulfilling his selfish urge to claim Arthur. Not just his lips, but all of him. Arthur let himself be drawn closer to the vampire, caught up in the kiss as he tangled his hands in Francis' golden hair. Francis felt Arthur harden against him, knowing that the Hunter had been alone for so long that he was far more sensitive to such intimacy. He pulled Arthur's waist and turned them, pressing Arthur against the wall this time as they parted just long enough for Arthur to catch his breath before Francis grew impatient and claimed his lips again. There was a dance for dominance but soon Francis' tongue had won, and Arthur let out a soft moan, freeing one of his hands and tracing down Francis' bare, cold chest.

_It was wrong, they both knew that. But it felt so….perfect…._

* * *

**A/N: I know I'm so mean for ending the chapter there but that just means you get to look forward to the next one even more! XD But yes, don't worry, the smut will happen properly in the next chapter~**

**Please review and say what you think of the brief taster at the end of this chapter! **


	19. Cerulean To Crimson(M)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**WARNING: This is an M-rated chapter because of certain actions that take place. Please do not read if you do not want to be reading anything yaoi-related (considering you've read the rest of this story but okay).  
Other than that, enjoy~**

**19**

Arthur felt his knees buckle under him, and vampire and hunter sank to the floor, still lost in each other. He was aware of Francis' hands roaming over his body, his fingers were cold but his touch sent electric shivers through Arthur. Francis undid Arthur's shirt button by button, revealing the Hunter's slim neck and the small scars left by Francis' fangs when he had bitten him. All sense of danger left him as Francis kissed over the scars, letting out an unintentional moan as the kisses turned into sucking and small nips. Francis paused a moment, smiling against his neck, and Arthur felt a shiver as he knew how close Francis was to him, how the vampire could easily bite him right now, but he wasn't. The thrill of it aroused him as much as Francis' kisses and closeness, and he felt his trousers grow tight. Francis noticed too, judging by the whispered chuckle; a soft breeze past Arthur's ear. Arthur gasped as he felt the vampire's cold fingers trail down to his waist, knowing they shouldn't be doing this but silently willing Francis to continue. Francis ghosted his fingers over Arthur's bulge lightly, causing him to bite his lip, hating the thought of being so vulnerable to Francis. But when the vampire slid the belt from Arthur's waist and unzipped his trousers, Arthur almost bucked with anticipation.

"_Hm_, eager are we?" Francis teased, his gaze slowly travelling down to Arthur's crotch.

"Sh-Shut up, you – " the Hunter tried to show he still had fight in him, but he moaned softly as Francis exposed Arthur's half-hard member already, shivering as Francis stroked him.

"_Mon dieu_, you are so sensitive, _cher_~" the vampire purred, delighting to hear the moans slip from Arthur's lips, despite his attempts to muffle them. He didn't want to give Francis such satisfaction. But he couldn't help moaning again as Francis stroked him harder, as a whispered chuckle from the vampire told Arthur that Francis realised just how vulnerable Arthur was at this point.

_Danger_, he thought, and suddenly tried to struggle, but Francis' stare paralysed him, his cerulean eyes dissolving the fears in Arthur's mind and his thoughts turned to those of Francis, only Francis. His beautiful eyes, his golden hair, his strong chest and his purring voice. Before he could have second thoughts, Arthur tangled a hand in Francis' hair, crashing their lips together in a passionate kiss. Francis smirked against his lips but kissed him back with just as much passion, their lips moving against each other forcefully. The Hunter's eyes widened as he broke the kiss, drawing close already.

"F-Francis…!" Arthur broke into a long, louder moan before he could finish, and Francis grinned, showing the beginnings of his fangs which glinted in the dim light of the warehouse. But it only sent the thrill of danger shuddering through Arthur, and he released into Francis' hand, moaning his name before he could stop himself.

Francis stared at the man beneath him: panting heavily from his release; his gaze half-lidded and filled with a lust for the vampire; powerless beneath him and surrendering himself to Francis entirely. The sight of the renowned Arthur Kirkland like this, vulnerable and, Francis would admit, undeniably sexy, made Francis' cerulean eyes spark. The stake had been discarded by Arthur, but it was still too close for Francis' liking. Still, he decided to have a little excitement himself, and picked it up. The wood was cold and rough in his palm, and he teasingly trailed the point of the stake lightly over Arthur's chest, tracing his muscles and making Arthur shiver.

"What the hell are you doing?" Arthur asked, trying to regain some of his dignity as he caught Francis' hand, and the vampire looked down at him.

"A stake can kill you just as well as it can kill me. Weak little things, humans~" he mused, pointing the stake at Arthur's heart. The Hunter froze, his hand still over Francis' but he made no attempt to move the stake away from himself.

"You have had so many chances to kill me, Francis." Arthur didn't miss the sudden wariness in Francis' eyes. "Why haven't you?"

"I like to play with my food." The vampire answered simply, but Arthur smirked.

"Playing with your food was what allowed me to capture you." The Hunter pointed out, and Francis narrowed his eyes a little.

"_Oui_, and why did you capture me when you could have killed me?" he tilted his head, his eyes sparking again as they caught the sliver of light from the warehouse window.

At this, Arthur hesitated. He had wanted to, even tried to. But he couldn't ever go through with plunging the stake into Francis' heart. The more he thought about Francis and planned how to kill him, the more the desire to see Francis die vanished. He didn't want to kill Francis, but he didn't want to let him go either.

Francis smirked as Arthur did not answer his question, and he leaned over the Hunter, the stake pressing into Arthur's skin a little but he didn't flinch.

"A Hunter that cannot kill a vampire. How amusing…~" he taunted him, but Arthur narrowed his eyes at this, knocking the stake from Francis' hand and pushing Francis back against the wall so hard that the vampire whimpered softly in discomfort.

"It is no more amusing than a vampire who cannot kill a Hunter. A vampire who instead would rather fuck him than escape after getting out of your chains!" Arthur raised his voice a little unintentionally, angry that the vampire dared mock him when Francis had done exactly the same as Arthur had. Francis only looked at him, the undying smirk on his features angering Arthur further, and the Hunter clenched a fist, swinging it hard and he heard a crack as it connected with Francis' jaw. He paused a moment, having half expected Francis to block him before he was struck.

Francis slowly looked at him again, his hair had been flung across his face from the blow, and he didn't bother to brush it away from his eyes. Arthur had struck him so hard that blood had pooled in Francis' mouth and he spat it out to the side, before letting out a deep chuckle.

"That hurt…" he confessed, grinning as his fangs were now beginning to grow. "But you should know that pissed me off, Hunter…"

Arthur sensed the danger and reached for the stake, but he was lifted up before he could and Francis slammed him against the wall hard enough to make Arthur grimace. The vampire pressed himself against Arthur so the Hunter could not move, his eyes changing from cerulean to crimson as he stared up menacingly into wary emerald eyes.

* * *

**A/N: Muhahaha please don't kill me! I gave you guys something, didn't I? I guess you're just going to have to wait for the next chapter…~~  
Please review because it encourages me to update faster and we all know how slow I can be at updating! **


	20. Three Against Two

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia **

**20 **

Gilbert stared out of the window, able to see his reflection in the glass darkened by night, wondering why there had been no word from the vampires he sent after Francis and the Hunter. Three, he had sent. It should have only taken one, but he had sent three to make sure the task would be completed quickly and efficiently. And not a word from any of them.

There was a knock on the door that tore him from his thoughts, and he sighs in irritation. "What?!"

The door opened, and Victoria stood there, wearing a silk dressing gown that did nothing to make her bust modest, and she raised an eyebrow at his tone. "You sent for me?"

Gilbert softened at once, a smirk growing on his features as his crimson stare looked her up and down. "I see you're dressed for the occasion."

"And what occasion would that be?"

"Oh, I think you already know." Gilbert stated, beckoning her over.

Victoria closed the door softly behind her, before moving to stand in front of him, her dressing gown tied loosely around her body which teasingly showed glimpses of her porcelain skin. Gilbert waited until she was right in front of him before slowly untying her gown and revealing her naked figure, only illuminated by the dim moonlight from the window. He ghosted his fingers gently over her chest, touching her breasts with a smirk of satisfaction, but Victoria obstructed his hand before it could do any more, placing her hands delicately on his shoulders and pressing close to him, brushing their lips together. Gilbert growled softly, wanting to touch her and claim her, catching her lips in a sudden, passionate kiss which Victoria quickly reciprocated. Gilbert hungrily forced her lips apart, delving his tongue into their mouth and possessively claiming her, reaching a hand down her back to feel her form, which earned him a soft moan.

XxX

Francis growled at Arthur, gripping his throat tighter as he could smell the fear coursing through Arthur now, and it sent a wave of satisfaction over him. He bared his fangs, sneering at Arthur but suddenly there was the smash of glass as three figures burst into the abandoned warehouse. Arthur could tell they were vampires, and Francis growled in irritation.

"Did Gilbert send you?!" the French vampire demanded, slackening his grip on Arthur's throat a little.

"Your presence has been missed." One of the scouting vampires explained calmly, studying the Hunger for a moment but he didn't deem him to be a threat. "Gilbert doesn't want you to recklessly chase after this Hunter by yourself."

Francis growled again, smirking to show his fangs as he knew he was more powerful than them. "And what? You were sent to bring me back? Or to kill the Hunter for me? Because either way, I won't let it happen."

Arthur watched with a quietness that resembled his encroaching death, seeing his stake on the floor and forming a plan to get it back. After all, four vampires and a Hunter in the same room made things somewhat dangerous, and Arthur always liked the odds to be more in his favour.

The three vampires had encircled Francis and Arthur, discreetly blocking any exit they could have planned. Francis still had a hold on Arthur's throat but he was no longer hurting him, instead his grip had loosened so it only appeared he had restricted Arthur's movements. The Hunter felt this, glancing at Francis but he understood now it wasn't four against one anymore; it was three against two.

Time suddenly leapt from crawling along silently between the two sides to a spike in movement. Francis let go of Arthur, turning to the other vampires. Arthur ran for his stake, one vampire following him while the other two were on Francis.

It was like a rabid dog fight as the vampires tore into each other, growling turned to inhuman screeches as Francis clawed one vampire's throat, punching his fist through the other's chest. Arthur rammed his stake into the third one's chest, feeling the cold wood contrast with even colder blood as the vampire screamed and crumbled to dust in front of him. Having dealt with his vampire, Arthur then went to aid Francis.

The French vampire had killed one but was now disadvantaged as the remaining vampire had pinned him against the wall, surprisingly matching Francis on strength. Francis fought against him but he let out a screech as the vampire pressed a special knife against his neck, not cutting him but burning him as the blade was made entirely of silver. Arthur had never seen anything like it but it was clearly not designed to cut vampires; it looked like a weapon of torture.

However, the sight of Francis so agonised and vulnerable triggered a burst of anger from Arthur, and though he didn't stop to think why it had occurred he slammed his stake through the vampire's back, straight through his heart. The vampire dropped the silver knife in shock, before crumbling into a pile of dust on the floor.

Francis only let out a groan before falling forward into Arthur's arms as he was badly wounded. There were deep gashes over his back which was still exposed as Arthur had not yet provided a new shirt for him, and there were horrible burns on his throat and chest. The Hunter scooped Francis up, taking him over to the pile of blankets he had given to Francis for a bed, laying him down gently. Francis' head lolled slightly as his consciousness was fading, and Arthur decided to spare Francis the chains and just let him rest while he treated his wounds.

XxX

Gilbert paused as he sensed the death of his three vampires, growling and letting go of Victoria entirely as he marched down to his grand hall where there was a large pool of water in the centre, poisoned by vampiric power that allowed Gilbert to see any vampire he chose. He thought of Francis, and the pool showed him the unconscious French vampire with the Hunter tending to his wounds, and Gilbert let out a growl of frustration, kicking the water so the image faded with the he ripples it caused.

"Damn you, Francis. You foolish, ignorant son of a bitch!" Gilbert yelled so his voice echoed off the grand walls.

Then he paused, falling silent a moment as he had a thought, and then he grinned. A grin that showed his cunning and sheer determination to get Francis to kill his beloved Hunter. He knew just how to get Francis to hate the Hunter, undoubtedly.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys, did you miss me? XD Everything has been very hectic with exams and all that but I've finally updated again so please don't hate me! I know this is a pretty shit chapter but I wanted to write something because it's been so long…. Please review!**


	21. His Hunter (M)

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**WARNING: M rated content in this chapter! **

**21**

Francis had been unconscious for a few hours; Arthur had treated his wounds and put the silver knife in a sheath on his belt, just in case. But now he looked over the slumbering vampire, his emerald eyes glinting in the dim moonlight as dawn was still some hours away. Arthur knew how easy it would be to kill Francis now, but after Francis had turned against his own kind in that fight to side with Arthur instead, the Hunter felt that he owed Francis. He silently studied Francis' features: his pale lips were parted slightly but Arthur knew no channel of breath would pass through them; his fangs had partially retracted but still glinted, as if boasting of their sharpness; the bandages on his neck where the silver knife had wounded him looked almost like a choker, concealing the puncture marks on the side of his throat and making him look more human. He was broken out of his thoughts as Francis stirred a little, letting out a soft groan before dragging his eyes open, the cerulean colour seeming to glow in the dimness of the warehouse – but Arthur took a step back, remembering he hadn't put the chains on Francis. But the vampire only looked up at him, those beautiful eyes ensnaring Arthur as he met his gaze. When Francis spoke, his voice held a soft, underlying growl, but it didn't scare Arthur so much as excite him.

"Are you still cautious of me, even now?" he purrs, and the sound reverberated around Arthur, making the hairs on the back if his neck stand up, but he swallows.

"You're a vampire. Of course I'm bloody cautious of you." He felt himself become more relaxed under Francis' gaze, but he tried to fight it, and reached for the silver knife. Francis saw the silver and widened his eyes, but he didn't move.

"You won't use that against me."

"Are you so sure of that?" Arthur stared at him, his grip on the knife tightening though as he knew he should plunge the knife into Francis' chest – but the cerulean gaze weakened his grip on the knife again, and Francis held a hand out to him, his fingers slender and pale. Arthur, despite knowing how dangerous Francis was, found himself reaching out and placing his hand in the vampire's, and Francis pulled him closer until he stood in front of him, having sat up in his bed of blankets.

This was it. Francis would kill him, and Arthur would let him. He didn't have the strength or will to fight him anymore. But what Francis did next was not malicious or threatening at all. The vampire had turned Arthur's hand, to expose his wrist, before placing a cold but sweet kiss to his skin, feeling the blood pumping through his veins and ghosting his lips up Arthur's forearm. His touch made Arthur's knees weak and he fell to his knees in front of him, entirely submissive now. Francis looked up at him, before kissing the trembling palm of his hand and then Arthur felt a wave of euphoria, and he lolls his head back, exposing his neck but he didn't care. Francis moved closer, but he didn't smirk and his fangs didn't grow and his grip wasn't harsh. His movements were graceful and tender, and Arthur felt a shiver of delight as Francis ghosted his lips over his neck, before leaning closer and purring in his ear.

"Do not fear me…" he murmurs, his words making Arthur's breath hitch as all of the dangers didn't seem to matter to him anymore.

"I don't fear you, Francis…" he whispered in response, meeting Francis' gaze and then he smiled – the genuine smile of someone who hadn't done so in a very long time. "I don't fear you – I want you~" Arthur blushed as he whispered the words, but he didn't need to say anything more as Francis smiled in return.

"Then you shall have me~" he replies, before kissing him, softly and sweetly. His fangs grazed Arthur's lower lip a little but it only excited him more as he kissed Francis back, running his hands over his cold chest. At this, Francis gasped and groaned as he loved the warmth emanating from Arthur's touch, and he smiles against his lips before flicking his tongue over Arthur's lower lip. Arthur obediently parted his lips for him, allowing Francis to slide his tongue over Arthur's, and they engaged in a passionate dance of dominance, Francis pulling Arthur closer as he overpowered him, pressing Arthur to the floor and straddling him, never breaking the kiss.

Arthur was so lost in Francis wholly and completely that he allowed him to do as he pleased, feeling cold fingers unbutton his shirt and slip it from his shoulders. He closed his eyes and heard the clink of metal as Francis undid the buckle of his belt and the clang of knives and guns and bullets falling to the floor. He didn't care. All he thought of was Francis. All he wanted was Francis. He opened his eyes again after Francis had undone his trousers and pulled them down slowly, almost teasingly, and he leaned up, kissing Francis again hungrily and desperately, with so much swiftness that Francis was caught off guard. But Arthur only smiled against his lips, tangling one hand, trembling with anticipation and excitement, into Francis' golden hair and pulling him closer with it, crashing their lips together more and eliciting a soft moan from Francis. He was enjoying this as much as Arthur was. At this, Arthur pressed against Francis more, and the heat from Arthur's body made Francis moan again in pleasure. Arthur soon broke the kiss, panting softly as he tried to catch his breath, before gasping and groaning as Francis pressed his palm against his crotch, and he heard a chuckle at his reaction. He looked again into Francis' eyes, drowning in the gorgeous blue, and he felt like he was floating as he watched Francis climb over him. The vampire must have already taken off his trousers, though he didn't remember it. All he knew for sure was that Francis was going to make love to him. And Arthur badly wanted it. He gasped and let out a moan of pain and pleasure as Francis entered him, lolling his head back but he heard a murmur that begged Francis for more – he realised later that he had been the one begging. It felt so thrilling, and Arthur moaned louder the faster Francis went, hearing Francis' groans and moans combining with his own and echoing through the warehouse. Arthur reached up again, finding Francis' shoulders and digging his nails into his pale skin, moaning his name before suddenly he screamed as he saw stars.

Francis was watching him all the while, seeing every little expression on Arthur's sweaty face, loving the pink of his cheeks and his panting breaths – everything that could not ever be seen in Francis' expression anymore, but he saw it and thought it was beautiful. Arthur's moans were music to him, his screams a crescendo of an orchestral masterpiece. He knew what to do to make Arthur produce more of those beautiful sounds, and he did it, harder and faster until Arthur was clawing at his back, and the pain he felt was amazing. He heard Arthur scream his name so loudly it made the broken glass in the shattered windows tremble, and he felt his release. He felt the same pleasure and growled Arthur's name, gripping his hips, before slowly pulling out of him, not panting or trembling, just watching Arthur. Arthur was sprawled beneath him, his chest heaving and his lips parted. His blood was pumping fast through his veins, and it was a delicious sound to Francis. But he didn't bite him.

Instead he laid next to him, wrapping his arms around him as he saw now that Arthur was just a human. A vulnerable human who had no way of protecting himself without his weapons. Francis realised then that he would protect Arthur, with his life. He looked down at his hunter, who had fallen asleep against his pale, cool chest, and smiled, as he was truly his.

* * *

**A/N: Hi guys, you know by now that I'm hopeless at updating, but I had some inspiration to write the very first smut scene I've ever written. Bearing in mind it's my first, I'm happy to accept constructive criticism, but please don't be too harsh XD  
Please review, especially if you want more smut in future chapters!~**


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